His Dark Ways

by Naomi Canale

  He doesn’t like me at first and hurls himself up into the air trying to throw me off. It doesn’t work so he jumps and heaves legs around the corral in a circle. I weave coarse hair in between fingers, clutch on, and gently lie forward over the untrained beasts back while forcing my thoughts into his. He calms as I stare off into the distance. Sebastian is far away enough to blend into the distant snow, but he’s not listening to Amy. She’s trying to get him to go the other way—into town. She hasn’t ridden the animal since her father died—such a shame. I’m going to catch her easily. This isn’t even a game any more, she’s not any fun.

  The black horse is steady. I keep him that way and guide him toward the lock on the fence. While snug upon his back, I reach over rundown wood and undo the latch barely held together with unfastened screws. For a second I pet the beast to calm him before digging a firm heel into his side.

  My thighs tighten against the folds of his muscled rib cage as I crouch down and focus on my target. I get into his sturdy rhythm as hooves rap and toss up earth that lies just under the snow.

  As Sebastian picks up speed Amy’s white night gown kicks up into the burn of the night’s air, exposing her legs. Tips of black hair whip the side of her wet face as she turns to glare at me. She thrusts her heel into the horse and turns into a cluster of trees that mimic tall sticks right before the opening of the desert.

  My horse pauses against the shadow of the trees. It’s like he’s never encountered anything but sage brush. “Don’t be a wuss,” I say with a low voice keeping sharp eyes out for Amy. I nudge his side again. He hesitates and then trots lightly into the sticks. Amy’s tracks are quickly being erased by heavy fallen snow.

  As I reach the playa, I’ve lost sight of her, but not the inside of her. Her trail of blood is getting thicker, more pronounced. I turn past the clump of rocks where I held Savanna through the night and find Amy panting on top of Sebastian. I grip my mustang’s mane and pull back to get him to slow. He stops and I watch as Amy lifts her hand to her side and moans like a baby. Faintly, she leans forward and strokes Sebastian’s side. “I love you boy,” she stammers.

  There’s no way she can escape me now. She turns her head across Sebastian’s soft winter coat, stares at me, and her eyes close. Her grip on the horse gives out. I watch as she slides off his robust back. Blood paints the white horse as if a child has a wide bristled brush and is creating a masterpiece over a blank canvas. She hits the ground in a light thud as if she’s a ragdoll, motionless.

  My mustang dips his head and tousles his mane as I dismount and jump sturdy onto a fresh blanket of white snow. Buckles on my boots clank and heavy breaths of two animals are all that’s heard through the playa. Amy’s thighs are spread, I let out a snicker as I squat over her and rest one of my elbows on a knee. “So unladylike, Amy.”

  I dig two fingers into her injured side. She squirms and begins to groan. Liver failure, interesting I didn’t think I had punctured her that bad. Her wound is so fresh, mouth-watering. “Oh, dark father, you will be so pleased. This one has no faith.”

  The taste of her salvation being tested runs like honey through my dried veins.

  I stick my nose in the air and take in a deep breath against thick flakes of frost. I focus so Savanna can’t budge, like she did back at Amy’s.

  I move into Amy to enjoy a well-earned treat.

  Chapter 23

  Deliver Me

  ~Savanna~

  I’m stooped over Amy and it’s causing the muscles deep within my thighs to tense. They begin to burn the longer I’m forced to stay in this position.

  My vision isn’t as blurry as it was the last time I came to, but a part of me wishes it was. Amy’s dying and there’s nothing I can do. I want to reach out and put pressure over the gash in her torso because blood won’t stop pouring out into the layers of earth. Daniel is forcing me to be stationary, but I can’t let him do this anymore. This is madness, I refuse to just sit here and watch the ones I love die. “This is still my body,” I attempt to say, but I’m pretty sure my words only come out as whispers or not even at all. My neck is tense, the nerves running through it and up into my brain are on the edge of bursting.

  A smile smears across Amy’s flesh colored lips dusted with the flurry. Daniel’s enjoying himself in there. I’m not sure why but he is.

  There’s a piece of paper sticking out of Amy’s clenched fingers. I keep myself steady so Daniel won’t notice anything’s off while he’s busy. I keep a close watch on Amy. I’m scared her eyes are going to open like Elsie’s did and it’s not going to be her, it’ll be him.

  As I struggle to see what it is, I crack, like I’m glass that’s close to falling on a durable surface and break. My body is weak, maybe that means he is too and that’s why his bear hug isn’t as tight.

  Carefully I unfold her firm fist.

  Fingers turn limp and release the paper. It’s wet from blood which keeps it from crinkling as I try to open it. A shudder flows through my body with fuzziness releasing at the ends of my limbs. Parts of my body are dozing off for being kept in this position for so long. One of the larger nerves in my neck swells up toward my tongue as I try to peer over the words on the page torn out of the Bible. Why was she reading the Bible? I didn’t even know she had one.

  Near the top, I see Romans in the upper left hand corner. The page is one thousand seven hundred and sixty two. Verse ten through nine are highlighted with yellow, but they are covered, thick with red, and it’s difficult to make out black ink. I try to keep quiet, my thoughts too. If a demon heard me reading or even thinking of the Bible, he’d kill me for good.

  My brain fits the words together like I’ve solved an impossible puzzle.

  Because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

  Saved? Is it too late for me to be saved?

  I swallow with difficulty, my teeth are being held together. They grind over one another like a chalk board, I want to scream out. My throat is raw as I shift my head up toward the heavens. God, please help me, please. No air pushes past my vocal chords. It’s impossible to speak, so I bend my head in prayer. God, if you are as gracious as my dad taught me, then please release me from this bondage and help Amy. I believe Jesus is Lord and that you raised him from the dead. Please hold me in your arms and keep me from death, God, please.

  I open my eyes, they gradually wander up. This may be the last time I get to see those stars or feel the cool of the snow brushing across my skin.

  My neck is suddenly shifted down to look away from the sky. It’s like I’m a marionette and Daniel gets to control my strings. Amy’s eyes pop open, eyebrows are bent. Daniel has decorated her face with anger.

  Panic should be keeping me frozen, but fingers wiggle free. “Thank you, God, thank you,” I choke. Am I being set free because of faith? My body is clumsy and fumbles over Amy and I hope I didn’t hurt her more. My bony shivering hands land in the snow and fall on a muddied surface. There’s a tug on my ankles, Daniel’s trying to get back in. He’s treated my body badly, leaving me frail, scrawny. I grip onto the earth and clench it into my palms. Snow unbinds itself and melts in between fingers as if the anger of what Daniel has done is escaping through my body and releasing fumes at my fingertips.

  He yanks on me again like he’s trying to convince my body it’s his. I crawl forward and raise my dirtied and bloodied arms toward the sky and shout. “Please, God, forgive me! Deliver me!” Water and snot run down the front of my face as I try to breathe. Daniel has made me a detestable human being.

  The jerking stops, it’s quiet, except for the breeze, and Amy wheezing. I wipe my face dry with the sleeve of my wet blouse. Rocks penetrate forearms as I scoot around the desert floor like an animal shot down by a huntsman. I attempt to regain strength, but I’m suddenly nauseous as I try to gather more awareness of my soul being fully in its rightful body. If I was strong enough, I’d slap myself. I need to h
elp Amy put pressure on her opened side.

  Steps slowly make their way in front of me. Daniel is different, but still alluring. A mist of dim gold floats around him covering what must be his naked body. His knees collapse on the dirt in front of me and I swiftly turn my burning eyes away from him.

  “Please, don’t turn away Savanna, I’m sorry.” I keep my head turned down, I’m afraid to pair my eyes with the ones I trusted, loved.

  His hand lies across my shoulder, I begin to sob. He doesn’t have the touch of a murderer; it’s free of any evil desire. I’m confused as his touch brings sweetness upon my tongue, cures my aching stomach, and reminds me of what heaven would be.

  Dad’s teachings loudly come to mind and I recall how he was always telling his congregation that even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

  Daniel is nothing like the pictures I’ve seen of demons. Light streams from his face, radiates across his eyes. I never knew light could be so evil, cruel. “Please, Savanna,” he pauses, “I’m forced to be this way and I don’t want to be. I don’t want to hurt you, I love you.”

  All of my being wants to bundle his words and place them in my heart forever. The longer I stare the more invigorating he becomes. I begin to reach a hand out to him, until I see the blood on my hands. He’s lying. I pull my gaze away from his. Spit splatters the snow as I scream out, “Don’t lie to me.”

  His other hand drapes my shoulder. “Savanna,” he says calmly, sweetly.

  The softness of his voice, the love floating into the right and left chambers of my brain is intoxicating. I slam my hands against my ears. The pain of hitting myself isn’t as bad as being deceived. I watch as snowflakes bundle themselves around strands of my messed up hair—they sway as I begin to rock violently. I whisper and pretend this is only a dream and he’s not truly on bended knee in front of me. “I rebuke you,” I say, hushed.

  More words falter from my lips, they tear my heart from its strings, the ones that make it beat. “I rebuke you back to hell, back to where you came from.”

  Like a ghost fading back into the darkness, he’s gone.

  Relief settles deep into my chest as I see Amy still trying to pant for air.

  I unravel the rope keeping my skin from unfolding its layers and scurry over to her. In between seconds of sight and no sight, I fumble around delusional and unsnap the two buttons on my pants and pull them free. I rip them down the middle and wrap her torso in how I imagine the Egyptians would wrap their mummies. I bundle the remaining pant leg over the larger puddle of blood and stroke her face for a moment. “I’m going to get you help, Amy,” I say with my lips and body quivering uncontrollably.

  As I start to assess the possibilities of how to get Amy into town and to the hospital, something takes hold of my foot. A larger bone pops and I watch as my flailing arms dig deep tracks into the mud away from Amy.

  It’s Daniel.

  “No!” I scream as tears pummel from my eye sockets. Amy turns her arm in my direction. She reaches out for me and I read her lips as they barely say my name.

  When I turn around all I see is invisible air and drops of wet snow. A memory floods my mind of when I first met Daniel. Good and bad were fighting over me that night and I was positive the good prevailed. But he tricked me. I always thought of evil as an ugly face with a decaying body that crawls on walls and lets out a hiss, not love, beauty. And definitely not the same light I’ve always known to cure my fear of the monsters that sat in my closet when I was young or brought a sense of happiness during my darkest days.

  The doors Dad talked about are real and I gladly opened one without checking the peephole. His grip tightens around my ankle—it’s the same grip from that night in the Goldfield Hotel. He shatters more bones in my leg. My body’s natural response is to reach out and grasp onto something—anything. But all that sits in my tightened fists are dead weeds and grass.

  My hair grows heavy from mud clinging to its ends as I lift myself up to hold onto my thigh. He tugs me harder and causes my ankle to blow out of its socket. Ligaments tear as I try to twist away from him. “Let go of me! You bastard, let go!”

  There’s a pause, except for my body still thrashing around.

  The sound of thunder fires through the desert, but there are no flashes of light.

  Air pierces through the clouds like a crashing comet and buckles the piece of land next to Daniel. As the hole dips and sinks like a toilet flushing dirt, I get up and struggle to run. I’m positive this is the end, that my withered body is going to crumble into that hole and the earth’s pressure sinking in on me will swallow me up like a tight crypt.

  Rocks crumble from the old caves. Those aren’t even a safe place to run. Daniel carried me far and I watch as both of Amy’s horses take off toward the dim lit city.

  I’m left out in the open.

  The unseen thunder has died down, but the silence scares me more than the loud cracks of energy. I stand still. I’ve got the sudden feeling a lion is slowly making its way toward me. Electricity fuels the atoms encircling me. The hair on my arms stands on end and I watch as the black locks on my head float up toward the sky even though there’s mud clinging to them. I shut my eyes to pray, to enclose myself, hide. Whatever this is, it’s dangerous.

  I open my eyes.

  Daniel’s in front of me again.

  He’s in the same form I’ve only known of him until now, but his uniform it different. It’s black, with a military braid and the buttons over his shoulder are crumbled, probably from the heat he has to endure in hell. “Come with me, to hell,” he seethes, hushed. “You’ll stand out among the souls. You’ll be my queen and I won’t let your flesh rot among the hot ash.”

  Pain leaks through my pores.

  Yes sits on the tip of my tongue, his stare alone twists my gut to the breaking point of almost saying the three letter word. He’s fully mastered his craft.

  Daniel shifts his eyes above my head.

  A gentle touch presses upon my temples. “Go away,” Daniel snarls. A choir of children streams into my ears and cripples me. All I see is blackness as I come into contact with the ground.

  Chapter 24

  Saying Goodbye

  Thick fingers push under my shoulders. “This one’s alive,” a man says with short breaths. He lifts me from the shadow of a rock and onto a flat table. The sun warms iced skin and causes the back of my eyes to throb.

  “This one?” I murmur, “one?”

  Eyelids feel like sandpaper over my corneas as I try to see across the playa. A man in uniform shoos away a persistent crow batting wings directly above where Amy lies. Sebastian stands firm by her side and pats his hoof at the dusty ground. He came back for her.

  The dryness of the desert must have been eager for moisture because the snow has already disappeared. My elbow hits cold metal as my arm flops over, they must have lifted me onto the gurney already. I’m trying to reach out for Amy all over again now that a monster is no longer holding onto me, but all I can do is touch her with my fingertips in the distance. I squint one eye to turn on peripheral vision as I imagine I’m stroking her right cheek. “Amy, I love you,” I say, through teeth clenched in pain, “Wake up, please wake up, Amy, please.”

  A clear tube pushes oxygen into my nose and lies across a throbbing face. I want another chance. This has to be a bad hallucination. I’m going to wake up and Amy, Lucky, and I are going to be in our long black gowns, caps fastened tight around our neatly done hair, and tassels are going to dangle the year 2014 on metal with cheap gold embellishment. And the moment we toss our caps into the air, the three of us are going to leave this small town, and maybe even find love. It’ll be a moment forever remembered, especially when we catch a glimpse of our tassels swaying in our rear view mirrors as we drive to the first day of college.

  Blades of a helicopter make a beat against the air as it twists into large swooping circles. The pressure of violent wind smacking over my skin awakens nerves I thought were dead. The idea of
being loaded like cargo into a Care flight helicopter doesn’t sit well with me, only because I’m alive. They should have kept my body in the strewn out lifeless cross it was left to die in. People I loved are dead because of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have fought so hard to survive and just accepted the nightmare. Everyone that was killed by my hands had to accept it, why not me?

  I reach out for Amy one more time before the door of the helicopter becomes a barrier between us and keeps me from seeing her. As two men hover over me shining bright lights into my pupils and poking my arm with a needle, I realize this is real and there’s nothing I can do. I might as well introduce myself to my new alternate reality.

  Dad never sugar coated the Bible and its truths. He blatantly told me there are doors that should be left alone—curiosity got the best of me. Everything is such a blur; I don’t even know how many lives Daniel took with my hands. I can barely breathe. Why am I the only one still alive? It’s unfair. He should have just taken me. The idea of smoldering in hell so that everyone else could have lived would be sitting much better with my conscious.

  As the helicopter ascends into a sky that seems to be filled with every color of blue, my stomach turns on me because of the elevation. I’ve never had a weak stomach, but my body has never been this fragile either. I rub fingers over my abdomen, bones are all I feel—I’m skeletal.

  The man with short breaths tries speaking to me again, but all the energy I mustered up seemed to be only for Amy. Any life left in me fades. I close my eyes and listen as their voices die away. My chest sinks from a long exhale as I slip into a deep sleep.

  I wake to a stiff tube stuffed down my nose. It burns as I swallow. I try to pull up a hand to adjust it off the middle of my lips and I’m stopped. White and blue colored cloths are keeping me restrained to the bed. I don’t bother to tug them free because I don’t want to make any noise and face the truth. The silence in the room is soothing, but I must have made some racket because a woman dressed in bright orange scrubs with turkeys comes in to greet me. I’m comforted at the sight of her sunny smile, until two men follow in behind, uniformed police—as if to protect her.