Whatever it was, it was incredibly old but also in decent shape. Ancient looking, the weathered leather was bound tightly around thin creamy parchment, with only a long length of thick binding cord wrapped around it to hold it shut.
The desire to open the book and read its contents was maddening, but it felt wrong. What if it was a journal of some sort? I asked myself, beginning to unravel the string. His personal diary of all things past and present? Who knew what thoughts and events he had jotted down. I stopped, rewinding it as I held it a bit tighter.
Before sleep took me, I hadn’t a clue that those would be some of the last sane thoughts I’d have for a while…
5
My legs hung off the edge of the dock, bare toes skimming the cold surface with each pass of my swinging feet. I’d rolled the cuffs of my pants up to my knees, which became so tight from sitting that my calves started to tingle.
“I shouldn’t have left, you know.” I spoke directly to the black water, as if expecting it to talk back. In some ways, I wished it would. “And yeah, I know what he said, but still…” With each rock I skipped along the surface, I nodded at the ripple that rolled back, pretending it was a reply.
My grip on reality was beginning to slip away. I’d hit the peak of insanity after another week and a half had passed and Maddy still hadn’t turned up, nor Iris. I even called the police station once, a few days after the mill incident, to ask if they’d heard from him, but they said they hadn’t. So I let it be. It’s not like they’d do much to help me anyway.
“No, you’re right. It’s my fault.” I shook my head, trying to skip the last rock. Instead, it plunked straight into the water, diving into the abyss. “I shouldn’t have left her alone in the first place.” This time I was talking to Lamby, my lone companion, who I’d started carrying around with me. He sat propped up in one of my shoes on the dock beside me. Lamby was the only thing I had that Iris had loved—that Maddy had touched…
“I miss him too, you know. That big lug, with his cryptic bullshit…and red eyes…or were they orange?” I shrugged, resting my elbows on my knees as I stared at my reddening toes. They were starting to go numb.
Sometimes, in my newfound lunacy, I would cry without warning—some episodes being worse than others. By comparison, my current one was tame. “And I don’t even know why I miss him…” I choked, feeling the chilled streams trickle down my cheeks, “I wish I could just talk to him right now… hold Iris again.”
I had no family aside from her. I grew up in foster care, so I never knew my parents. She was all I had. Her father was the only other person I had ever had in my life, when he was still around. “You know the bastard hasn’t even called since she went missing?”
With a heavy sigh, I lay back on the creaking wood, feet still dangling, until I felt splinters catch on my sweater. I heard the angry slosh of water underneath as it crashed against the bank. “I even tried calling him, but the number was disconnected. Go figure.”
My heels were banging against the dock now, echoing up through the floor. “I mean, how long has it been now, Lamby? What, weeks? A month?” I looked over at him like one would a friend, and in my mind, he nodded. “Right? You’d think even a father that didn’t care would at least call to see if she was still alive. But no…”
Time passed as I watched the puffy clouds roll by, finding names for their many shapes in my head. It was still chilly, but the sky wasn’t as dark as it had been. Today was just a bit overcast. And I was thankful there was no rain for once.
This was the third day I had come to Michael Lake, hoping for some kind of sign or clue, but nothing ever turned up. Not since that little girl. I wondered what I would do if one of them just washed up like she had. How would I react? Would I even be able to mourn? At that thought, I cried harder. At least I knew my mind wasn’t completely lost. Now all I could think of was how glad I was that I’d had enough sense to drive up here this time instead of walk.
I lifted my arms up high, blubbering through a stretch as I turned to my tattered friend. “Well, bud, we should head back home before it gets too cold. Don’t need you freezing to death too.” As I went to grab him, I screamed, jerking my knees up to my chest as I took hold of them.
Something had brushed against my foot as it hung off the dock—something rough and cold. I laughed and cried all at once, thinking I’d jinxed myself. As I looked over the edge of the pier, I didn’t see a person. I saw a hat.
And not just any hat…
I gasped. “Maddy?” Leaning over the edge, I looked up, searching as far as my eyes could see for a body, clothes, anything. “Maddy!” Hands cupping my mouth, I screamed for him as loudly as I could, but there was no answer.
The battered hat bobbed against a wooden pillar, the rippling tides trying to suck it under the pier. I fished for it, reaching far as I could before my fingers finally squeezed enough of a ridge to lift it. It was his alright. I could see the faded letters of his name written on the inner rim.
The brim of the hat was sodden where the water had slowly eaten its way through the protectant, and it was stained with mud and algae, like it had been floating along the bank for weeks. Somehow, I still caught a whiff of him from it, but when I turned it over I could see a slick spatter of blood inside. A few days old, maybe? But it was dark, almost black.
Hat in hand, I scanned the lake again, watching the flow of it to try and see where it could’ve come from. I knew the river bled into it a few miles upstream, but the only places I knew of up that way were abandoned, unless—“The mill!”
I could’ve sworn Lamby shouted “No!” as I spoke. Even he knew that Maddy had told me to stay away from there for a reason. Obediently, I hadn’t gone back since. But now… “I know what he said, okay? But…what if he’s hurt? Or worse? And what about Iris?”
I shuffled to a stand, shaking the excess water from my feet as I gripped Maddy’s hat tighter, holding it against me. The thumping in my chest was amplified by the bloodstained fedora, and I heard it louder than ever. “No, no I have to go.”
Against my better judgement, I put on the filthy hat. It was far too big, covering my brows even as I tilted it back to see. My head now smelled of stale water and algae. “And you.” I pointed at Lamby with a stern finger, “You’re staying in the car, mister. That’s not up for debate.” With that, I shoved him into the pouch of my hoodie, slipping into my shoes before I embarked on my foolish quest.
Maddy’s car was still there. A shallow grass had grown in the old tire tracks, and the blanket of dirt that now covered the sedan told me it hadn’t moved since. The car was still unlocked too, so I fished through the dash for a flashlight, or weapon of some sort. I had a shotgun stashed away in the attic at home, but I hadn’t even unlocked the case since Iris was born. I managed to find a light in the glove box, but no gun.
“Come on, Maddy, you’ve got to have something here.”
I felt around the seats for loose fabric, or hidden compartments. As I felt under the driver’s seat, a cold metal tapped beneath my fingernails. A pistol case!
Fortunately for me, it wasn’t locked, though when I opened it, it looked like the thing had never been used. Even closed, it was filled with stale air and dust. It took a few minutes to familiarize myself with it. I had shot a pistol a few times before when I attended a concealed carry class, but that was years ago.
“Bullets? Bullets?” I murmured under my breath. There was no ammo in the case, and the clip was empty, so I reached under the seat again, suddenly feeling the telltale cardboard. “Aha!” It was a hundred-piece box, so I filled the clip before grabbing a handful and shoving it in my hoodie, which was still occupied.
“Shit, Lamby. I’m sorry…” I took him out and set him in the passenger seat, “I’ll be back, okay? Just…stay put.”
My hands began to shake, and stray bullets clattered to the floor. “Okay, okay…safety?” I turned the gun over, seeing the little red line along the switch as I flipped it back and forth. “Ok
ay.” I breathed, clicking the flashlight on as I made my way into the mill again. My heart was already pounding in my head.
Several boards were still ripped from the doorway, so I crouched under them. The onset of fear washed over me as I slipped inside. Everything looked the same, even smelled the same as it did the last time I was here. The only difference was that it was brighter from the daylight. Aside from the wind howling in the cellar, it was quiet, eerily quiet. I heard no footsteps or whimpers, no scraping of nails or inhuman shrieks—not even the skittering sounds of rodents as I shone the light down the tunnel.
My feet carried me quickly enough that I couldn’t change my mind, trudging through the stiff earth as I approached the pipe. But as I climbed in through the hole and made my way into the darkness, my face soured at the revolting smell. The freshness of the forest carried a new scent with it—one of decay, like an animal had been left to rot. The stench made me gag.
In the gravel-filled hole, I saw the now dried outline of the pool of blood that Maddy had dipped his fingers into, even down to the drag of fingertips left behind. I wondered whose blood it was.
When I looked around, all I saw were claw marks, carved deep into the cement slabs and walls of packed earth and roots that surrounded me. There was another tunnel dug out in the dirt across the room. This one was smaller, but still big enough for a person to walk through. As I approached it, a gust of air carried the stench up from within—whatever that foul smell was, it was definitely coming from that hole.
In the mud, I could see a man’s shoe prints, dried over from where the water receded. I shone the light into the stinking void, seeing nothing at the end of it except more tunnel. The pistol shook in my hand as I fought the urge to call out, but I didn’t. If that thing was still here, I wasn’t about to disturb it.
After a few paces, the tunnel sank into a decline, the odor soon overpowering my senses as I came to another hole in the dirt, this one more akin to a lair of some sort.
As soon as my feet met the fetid earth, I had to lower the light and lift my hoodie to cover my nose as I tried to hold down the contents of my stomach. Looking down, I saw something beside my foot; something off-white poking out from the soil—though something about it was strange. One end of it was jagged, like it had been broken off, the other bulbous with gouges on it. When I kicked it with my foot, my brain registered it for what it was—a bone.
As I panned the light around the room, I saw that the floor was littered with them. Some old, some new; many of them snapped, chewed, and a few whole. At first I thought they were animal bones, upon noting how small they were, but once I saw a muddied little shoe sticking out from the muck, I knew. These were kids—or what was left of them.
I could feel my finger tighten on the trigger as I looked around. I took a few steps back, trying to wrap my head around it all. That’s when I stumbled onto my ass, my ears ringing from the accidental shot fired during my fall.
I had tripped over something hard, dropping the flashlight as I landed in a mound that squished and crunched beneath my jeans, a cool wetness beginning to soak into the back of my hoodie. Something viscous stuck to me as I fought to stand, and I was forced to crawl away from it, doing so frantically as I grabbed the light, kicking up dirt and bones along the way, whimpering. The smell had worsened now, like it was following me.
I felt something slimy on my palm and tried rubbing it off on my pant leg before I tracked the shaking light back up along my path, now marked by a trail of knee marks and black ooze. The light met the source of the smell, spotlighting the bed of rot I had fallen in, and I could no longer ease my stomach. It was a pile of rotting bodies and body parts, partially eaten, but every one of them small.
All at once, my heart wrenched, my throat squeezing the feelings I’d buried these last weeks out through a sickening dry heave and a debilitating sob. I only looked at it long enough to see if I could find any hint of Iris sticking out in the mess of corpses. Thankfully, I didn’t, but I was now more scared than ever—God, even if she was alive, how could she ever recover from being near something like this?
I scanned the ground around me, seeing the same large, manly footprints disappear through yet another hole. This time, something familiar caught my eye. It sat at the opening of the new hole, calling to me, with its shredded pinkness glittering under the beam. When I picked it up, I knew instantly it was a piece of Iris’ shirt. It had that same ketchup stain on the corner beside the pony’s mane, but the browned blood around the edges was new, a thin trail of it leading away.
My chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself, but I shakily tried to stay focused. If that monster had been here, it was gone for now. The gunshot alone would’ve driven it my way, but I heard nothing aside from my own fitful breathing.
“Maddy?” I whispered loudly, leaning over to look down at the darkness that stared back up at me. “Iris?” But I only heard myself. This hole didn’t look safe; instead, it dropped straight down after a few feet, and I wasn’t about to get myself stuck somewhere I couldn’t get out of.
At this rate, I thought, I’d seen enough. If Maddy and Iris hadn’t shown up by now, there were only a few possible outcomes, but none of them looked good.
In the end, though, I was still stubborn. Until a body was found, I wouldn’t give up on whatever scrap of hope I had left. I couldn’t. But right now, I needed to get out of here. All I could do was go home, wait, and pray to whoever out there would listen, beg for whoever it was to bring them back to me— alive.
6
For the next three days, I stayed up late, just as I had that first night; fidgeting, pacing, staring out at the driveway waiting for him to pull up, or anyone. My dreams were tainted by that thing’s lair, which had kept me from getting a restful night’s sleep since—damn nightmares.
Some nights, I fought the urge to go outside and walk up and down the street, screaming vile curses at the universe, but I knew Jean would be out there, and I wasn’t in the mood to explain myself.
I’d cleaned Maddy’s hat as best I could, wearing it along with his jacket as I sat in the kitchen chair, waiting and hoping. The stench of body odor that permeated from within the coat didn’t bother me anymore. No smell could hold a candle to that mass grave, and if I was any kind of sane tomorrow I planned on reporting it to the cops.
Every morning. I’d wake up with a sore neck, a puddle of drool under my chin, my face marked from sticking to the table, and his hat offset. The book was still where I had left it, the gun never far from my grasp.
Lamby was nestled in a coat pocket, his scruffy face gazing up at me every time I opened my eyes. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but I waited anyway. All day and night. I imagined the cops finding me years later, ass welded to the chair, babbling some psychotic nonsense— the result of the fermented insanity that brewed in my head over time as I wasted away.
But this night, something felt…different. As though, in an instant, everything had changed. Through the rain, I heard a sound I hadn’t heard any other night—the sound of a car screeching to a slippery halt before the engine cut off. I pinched myself several times to see if I was dreaming, but I wasn’t.
I thought my mind was playing tricks, sure hallucinations had gotten the best of me, but then I saw them; the lights that shone past the windows before dimming. A car door opened and closed before the heavy thump of footsteps came closer, growing louder as they came up the stairs.
I ran to the door, gun in hand, as a wild flash of lightning outlined the large figure outside; the door handle began to jostle as I grabbed it. A gust of air and water poured in as I waited for whomever to come inside, but they didn’t. All I could hear were loud, nasal breaths, before something thudded against the doorframe.
“Can you take her…please?” a voice muttered weakly.
It was Maddox.
But I’d frozen. I couldn’t believe it was him. I didn’t even as I stared at him, wide-eyed and open mouthed. His eyes were closed,
like he was fighting fatigue, and in his arms was my Iris, wrapped snugly in heavy grey wool as he cradled her from the cold. My first reaction was to lunge forward, hugging both of them as he about toppled over, grunting, stopped only by the porch railing behind him, which creaked under his weight.
Now his eyes were open, and his expression bemused, becoming even more so when I planted a kiss on his soiled cheek as I cried, “Thank you…”
I took her in my arms as he stood there, and that was when the happiness broke through in an exalted bout of tears. Holding her unusually pudgy, dirty face up against mine, I felt how frigid and wet it was, and as I brought her back into the light, my glee was replaced with uneasiness.
Her eyes were closed, as if in a sleep, but I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. I held my ear to her mouth, but heard nothing, felt nothing. Taking in her pallor, I began to panic, the bloody piece of clothing I’d found days ago filling my thoughts. Sure, he had brought her home, but I hadn’t even stopped to question whether she was still alive.
“Iris? Iris, honey? Smush?”
But she was completely unresponsive to every touch and whisper.
“Maddy—”
He must’ve heard the hysteria that was beginning to kick in my voice, because even he looked down at her for a moment in question. He sniffed, and that was when I knew something was wrong.
“No.” He shook his head as his eyes shot to me and then her. He walked inside the house as a rush of energy filled him, his chest heaving unsteadily. He too was frightened.
“Put her on the floor, please.” Now he was panicking, shooting forward as he came to his knees on the floor just inside the door.
“What?”
“The floor,” he demanded, waving his hand at me, an impatience in his voice. “Hurry.”
Ashes of the Fae: (Leila Davis Book 1) Page 5
