by J. L. Murray
“Who, Cain?” I said.
“You don’t say his name,” she hissed. She was definitely afraid now and it sent a thrill of joy down my spine. The scritching against my skull was growing louder. I was dizzy now and weaving back and forth as if drunk. But I didn’t care. The thumping was closer. The ground was covered in screaming ravens now. I laughed again.
“Stop that,” said Ruth. “Stop all of this.”
“These monstrous things don’t belong to you. They don’t even belong to Cain. They are from Lilith’s child.”
“I know that,” she snapped.
“Let the children go,” I said, pressing harder against my neck with the blade of the knife. “Or you’ll never know what happened to Rebecca. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? I know all about desire, of course. I’m no angel. But to want your own daughter? Incest is best, put your daughter to the test. That seems crass, even for a reflection.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” she rasped. I could feel her anger.
“Let them go, Ruth,” I said. “I’m ready to die.”
Another cloud of flying figures descended from the sky, with a flapping of wings. I expected more ravens to land, but instead the air was full of bats, screaming. The ravens rose to meet them, shrieking. And I laughed, spinning around with a knife to my throat.
“Monstrous,” I said, and laughed. I was unhinged, I was insane, spinning in a cloud of bats and ravens. The ground rumbled and the pavement cracked. I walked toward the body that was once my mother. She was breathing fast.
“What are you?” she whispered. “You’re not Frankie.”
“You never did know me very well,” I said. “But I guess you know me now.”
I looked around me. Kev was a maniac, hitting at bats in the air. The people circled around us had backed away, their weapons abandoned. All eyes were on me.
“Are you...Lilith?” said a man.
I smiled at Ruth. She responded by releasing her hold on the girls. They took wary steps forward, looking back at their captor. Then with wet sobs they ran forward and dissolved into their father’s arms.
“Leave,” I said, under my breath, in Kev’s direction. “Get the fuck out of this town and don’t ever come back. It’s not safe for them.” He nodded slowly, then backed away, the girls held tight against his chest, one in each arm. He was limping heavily, his leg injured, his shoulder obviously giving him pain, but he held those children to his chest like a crucifix.
“Now,” said Ruth. “Let’s talk.”
“Maybe,” I said. The pavement cracked again, forming a V-shaped pit between us. “Or maybe we’ll just leave.”
“We?” she said.
The ravens were still screaming, the bats swirling. Shots rang out from the bar. The earth rumbled beneath our feet and I could see movement deep among the cracks in the parking lot. A writhing, a skittering.
“If I end, so does she,” said Ruth, slowly easing backward, watching the cracks. “Your mother.” A horde was emerging, covering the pavement, making it look like the asphalt was moving. I laughed when I realized insects and worms and spiders were rising up out of the ground, crawling and creeping and wriggling up out of the pit and making their way toward Ruth.
“She’s already dead,” I said.
The crawling things were covering her shoes and making their way up her ankles.
“No, stop,” she said. “Whatever this is, make it stop.”
“You didn’t stop,” I said. “You never stopped hurting me. And you never stopped Rebecca. You just wriggled into my mind and kept burrowing. You burrowed in until you broke me, until I shattered. Were you even surprised when I snapped? You should have been expecting me. You may as well have handed me that gas can and helped me strike the match.”
“Stop!”
She was screaming. The insects were digging their way under her skin, I could see them bulging, wriggling, eating through muscle. Would they consume her?
“It burns! Stop it, Frankie!”
It was crazy, what I was seeing. I was sure I was hallucinating, but I had to see it through anyway. It couldn’t be real, just like I wasn’t really smiling like a lunatic.
“I’m only Harishona because Rebecca died,” she gasped. “Don’t make me kill you. I have to deliver you. To my mother. To the lake. So I can be with Rebecca again.”
“You think you get to go to a bavuah heaven?” I laughed. “You toss me in the lake and Mommy dearest sends you to a better place, where you can spend an eternity with Becky? Becky isn’t even dead.”
“She is. I saw it.”
“She’s a wraith,” I said. “And Cain has her. Do you know why? The wraiths are Abel’s, but Cain has her. Ask me why. Go ahead.”
The bugs were under her face now, wriggling under her cheeks and out of her eyes. She howled in pain.
“Why?” she managed.
“For me. Because Becky offered herself to save me. Not you. Not our mother. Me. Even I didn’t see that one coming.”
“No, no, that’s not right.” She shook her head, clawing at her face. “Stop this. I warned you,” she said through gritted teeth.
Snow was coming down now, first slow and then faster. Balls of ice the size of moths bounced off the pavement. I remembered the knives of ice that Becky rained down to stop me. Frost covered the ground, spreading like a mold, crystallized and so bright white that it illuminated the world around me. I looked at Ruth, her fingers white, covered in hoarfrost, and it was spreading just as it was on the ground. My feet were covered and it edged up my legs under my jeans. The bats were sluggish, bumping into each other, the ravens ceased their screams, seeming to become confused.
“I warned you, Frankie,” said Ruth. She was nearly completely covered in ice now. Wriggling things were sluggishly crawling from the holes they’d made in her skin, falling to the white ground, frozen and stiff. She spit and her phlegm was full of worms, frozen and dead by the time it hit the ground. Hail was coming harder.
“Looks like Cain gave you a gift, too,” I said. “At least he’s good at sharing.”
Her smile wavered when she realized what I said.
“He gave Becky the same power,” I said. “She used it to get my attention.”
Another shot came from inside the bar.
“Who is that?” she said, not taking her eyes from me. “Tell me.”
“Fuck off,” I said. “A little snow, that’s all you’ve got?” I raised the knife again, putting the tip just over my heart. “All I have to do is slide this knife in. Then you’ll never get to the lake.”
Ruth went still, then. I saw the gun shining at the side of her head, a big arm roped around her throat.
“Let her go,” Dekker said in her ear. “You okay, Frankie?”
“No,” I said. “Run, Dekker! Get out of here!”
He looked at me, took in the scene. Hail, frost, ravens half-dead, bats falling to the ground, frozen bugs littering the ground, the parking lot turned to a war zone, riddled with cracks. And my mother’s face, smiling. The crowd was gone now, all the bavuah run away or hiding.
“Borrowed power isn’t going to sustain you forever,” I said, unsure where the phrase came from. I frowned, tasting the words.
“But for now, it’ll do,” she said.
“Run, Dekker,” I said, gripping my knife, piercing the skin just under my breast. “Leave him.”
“Frankie, no,” Dekker said. He snarled into Ruth’s ear. “Let her go, you evil bitch. She might not be able to kill you, but I will.”
“She was doing a fine job before you came along,” said Ruth.
“Get Beatrice and run!” I screamed. “Go!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he said. “Where did all these animals come from?”
“He doesn’t know what you are,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I admit, I was flummoxed. But I think I’m starting to understand. And I know why it’s always been so important to return you to the lake. Ever since Rebecca died, I
think I knew.”
“Shut up,” Dekker said, shoving the gun harder into her temple. She smiled at me.
“Get Beatrice and get out,” I said, my voice a whisper. All the joy vanished as if it had been a fever dream, something once fathomed but that I no longer understood. The mad laughter, the drunken dancing, none of it was real.
“Where did everyone go?”
“They ran away,” said Ruth. “They were afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” said Dekker.
“Not me,” Ruth said. “Her.”
Dekker looked at me. And that was enough of a distraction. Ruth reached up and touched his hand. White frost spread, quickly spreading up his arm, thick ice soon encasing his hand, gun and all. Dekker opened his mouth, no sound coming out. I saw the pain in his eyes, the terror. The fear.
“No!” I screamed, reaching down and picking up the rifle I’d abandoned on the ground. I pointed it at her.
“Kill me,” she said, “and he dies, too. If a bullet pierces me, what do you think will happen to all this power? It’s really the power of a god, if you think about it. Will you take the risk? That all this ice won’t just burst out of me and kill him?”
“Let him go.”
“It’s not even loaded, Frankie,” she said. “But I know your weakness now. You didn’t have one for so long. So solitary. You didn’t have anyone. I’m so glad we had this little reunion.”
I dropped the rifle but it barely made a sound on the bed of frost and hail that now covered the ground. I watched Dekker.
“Don’t hurt Beatrice,” I breathed. “Take me, but let my friends go.”
Laughter bubbled from her ruined lips, scarred from the fire I had set. Dekker stopped screaming. Frost was crawling up his neck and he made a gurgling sound.
“This man. He’s got the blood of Cain in him, did you know?”
I nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“How funny,” she said, laughing again, as if I’d told a clever joke.
“Stop,” I said. “You have me. If you kill him, you won’t have anything. I guarantee it.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s true,” she said. “But maybe we can all be together. Wouldn’t that be splendid?”
I fell to my knees and put my hands behind my head. Just as I had when the cops found me in Florida.
“Please,” I said.
“You wouldn’t surrender to me for two innocent girls, but a murderer shows up and you turn to jelly,” she said. She lowered her hand and Dekker fell back, stiff as a board, frozen but not dead. I breathed again, crying and not knowing why, tears freezing on my face before they hit the ground. Then she made a flourish with her hand and the hail stopped, the frost receded, and we were left in a wet parking lot, ruined with cracks, littered with dead animals.
“Leave them alone,” I said.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Go get her. Come back with that old heathen Beatrice, or your lover is dead.”
I raised myself to my feet. My knees felt weak. I eased past Ruth, not touching her as I stepped towards Dekker, gasping on the ground, a fish out of water. He was holding his hand to his chest, the gun forgotten. Ruth reached down and picked it up.
“Love is a funny thing,” she said. “And dangerous for people like us, Frankie.”
“Like us?” I said. I narrowed my eyes. “We’re not alike.”
“Aren’t we?” she said. “Monstrous. Isn’t that the word you used? That’s us. You and me. Monsters among the living. At least I fell in love with another monster, little Frankie. You took a human along for the ride. Two humans, if you count the old woman. And now look at us.” She aimed the gun at Dekker’s head and her eyes went cold.
“Stop,” I said.
“Bring the old witch.”
I headed to the back bathroom, and opened the door, expecting to see Beatrice with her hand to the mirror.
But she wasn’t there.
chapter twenty-two
D
arkness offers a quiet beauty. It’s in darkness that we can think, evaluate our lives, make decisions about the paths we take. In darkness we come alive, and sometimes we’re magic.
This particular darkness didn’t offer much magic. My darkness was the trunk of a Cadillac, and I felt every bump in the road, I felt the roughness of the carpet against my skin, I felt the duct tape across my mouth and wrists and ankles. My cheek was dripping blood into my ear and hair from the pistol-whipping Ruth had given me back at Bea’s house. But what really hurt was a growing terror deep inside my chest, a terror that bloomed, throbbing like a living thing inside me.
Dekker was going to die. I was likely going to die as well, but that was my decision. It was always going to be me at the lake. I was always headed here. But I’d tried so hard to drive him away, to make him go. I’d done everything I could do except convince him that I didn’t want him. Because I couldn’t.
Something about him wormed its way under my skin. He’d said I was in his bloodstream. And he was in mine, burning like fire. Roo said it hurt to be alive, and I understood a bit what she meant. Only I didn't wanted to run away. I wanted to dive in and let the fire consume me. As Lilith said, we were set on this earth to consume one another.
I tried to kick the trunk with both feet, but I was too well trussed. I’d been trying to get myself killed all this time, and now I was trying to survive to save Dekker. A man with the blood of Cain. The bastards I’d been killing for six months. Life is full of goddamn fucking mysteries. The trunk opened, and Ruth peered in at me, smiling.
“You look like shit,” she said. “But I promise, things are about to get much, much worse.”
I tried to scream at her, tried to kick and call her names. But my mouth was taped shut and I couldn’t move my feet. I was at her mercy.
“She told me you were afraid of the water.” Ruth looked away from me, seeming to take in the view. She looked back down at me. “Is that true? Afraid of water? How silly. Truth be told, it might have saved you back then. But how can you avoid water as a grown woman? Boggles the mind. Well I tell you what, today’s your lucky day. Or is it night? I can’t tell.”
I frowned, watching her. I didn’t know what was real anymore. She had my knife in her hand, I could see now. My father’s knife.
“Hold still.” She hovered above me, slicing through the tape on my wrists. My hands sprang apart, free, and I reached up and ripped the tape from my mouth, taking skin with it. I didn’t cry out.
“Where’s Dekker?” I said, sitting up. Ruth slipped the knife between my ankles, watching me carefully. I didn’t go after her. For now.
“See for yourself,” she said, a smile in her voice.
Watching her, I carefully put one leg out of the trunk, followed by the other. I had pins and needles in my hands and feet from being bound. But I ignored the sensation and pushed myself out of the car, standing on my own, though precariously. I got my footing and glared at Ruth. She nodded behind me, but I didn’t turn. I knew where I was, without even looking. Mirror Lake.
“Let him go,” I said. “I was going to do this anyway. I was already coming here. I always was. Ever since I came to this shit town. This is all unnecessary.”
“Then what have you been doing all this time?”
I shook my head, unsure how to answer. “I wanted to feel something.”
“See?” My mother’s face smiled at me. “You and I aren’t so different. All we want to do is feel, Frankie.”
“I didn’t want to feel death,” I snapped. “For once, I wanted something that wasn’t killing or hurting or dying. I wanted to feel alive.”
“Of course,” she simpered. “Your Thomas Dekker. Tell me, do you know anything about him?”
“I don’t need to know about him.”
“And look where it got you.”
It was me who smiled this time. “Where it all began.”
“Turn around, Frankie. See what’s at stake.”
I swallowed hard, a tear sliding dow
n my face. I closed my eyes and turned. I didn’t want to see.
“Open your eyes.”
I felt my heartbeat behind my eyelids. I opened my eyes.
The lake was frozen solid, bright white from the ice. And standing on the lake, blindfolded and bound with duct tape was Dekker. He was standing directly over the spot where my sister disappeared. I caught my breath. The ice under Dekker was starting to melt, his feet submerged in water, the thin ice only just holding his weight.
“It’s warmer over that spot,” she said. “I wonder why. If he falls, do you think he’ll become like me?” She was whispering in my ear, sending a sick shiver down to my bones. “And if he does, do you think he’ll kill you?”
“What do you want? Just tell me what you want.”
She laughed. “I’ll tell you. If you don’t give it to me, though, Frankie, I won’t help your Mr. Dekker.”
“Just tell me!” I saw Dekker cock his head at the sound of my voice.
“This won’t save you, you understand. You’re going to die tonight no matter what. It will only save him. For now.”
“Say it. I’ll do it.”
“Call her.”
“Call who?”
I felt the tip of the knife, my knife, come to rest against my ribs. If she slipped that blade right between, I’d be dead in under ten minutes. But she just kept it there, waiting. And Dekker kept sinking. He was up to his ankles now. I heard the ice creak under his weight.
“Who?” I screamed. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Rebecca. I want her. Call her.”
“She isn’t the one you want,” I said. “She is the real Becky, not your fake one.”
“I want to see her,” she said, her voice cracking. “I just want to see her one last time.”
The ice cracked on the lake. Dekker was holding statue still, but I could see him shaking, even from here, from cold or fear, or both.
“I don’t know how to call her,” I admitted. “She always comes to me.”
“Call her,” she said, the urgency in her voice almost human. “Or watch him die.”
I swallowed, looking up at the sky above the trees. It must truly be night now. I wondered if the darkness that surrounded us before was obscuring the stars or if it was just cloudy. This might be my last chance to see the stars.
