by Harvey, Red
The door opened without a creak, and Erin was free. She didn’t even turn around for a final look at me or to say goodbye. Leaving the basement was her main objective. Even me, her little brother, was low on her survival list.
I started to cry without a sound. I knew she wasn’t going to make it. I also knew that if she did, it meant I would never see her again. She was abandoning me.
Mommy. Daddy. Erin.
It took everything I had to cry quietly.
A few steps took her into the upstairs hallway. After that, we all lost sight of her. The silence was thick, until we heard feet were running, sliding; there were grunts and screams.
I buried my face in Louise’s chest.
Finally, the Man came down the stairs, with Erin behind Him. He had her by her hair. My sister was crying like I was. She had a bloody knot on the side of her head.
In his free hand, The Man held a large knife. Once I saw that, I lost my pride and fear.
“Leave her alone! Please! Don’t hurt her!”
For an odd instant, He appeared moved by my request. He stood at the bottom of the stairs with Erin straining against his hand. To me, He looked…human.
That passed, and He made a quick decision. He slit Erin’s throat. The blade slashed through her neck, as fast as a pen stroke and just as final. Blood sprayed in a warm arc, hitting me, Louise, and Michael.
The Man screamed, “This is the price. Leave, and this is the fucking price! Trust me, this death was better than the one she would have found Outside. Did the cunt a fucking favor.” He dropped her, spitting on her corpse.
God, I can’t write anymore today.
* * * *
13
September 30th
When I was first captured, the food was of a thick, oatmeal-like quality. Lately, the gruel He’s been feeding us is little more than broth, like he’s been adding water over of actual substance.
After consuming said watery snot, I’m hungry an hour later. If I’m constantly hungry, I know Louise and Michael must be too. They don’t complain, but it’s an unsaid agreement among us that the quality of the food has gone down, dowwwwwn.
Louise has been eating regularly for the last couple of weeks. Our heart-to-heart didn’t get her to start eating right away, but Erin’s death did. I think Erin’s death changed a lot. It made things…clearer.
We do have to leave, but if we try leaving the way Erin did, then we’re sure to join her. God knows I want to see my family again, but I don’t know if I’m ready. Before Erin’s death, if someone had asked me if I wanted to die, I would have told them yes. Lately, with death nippin’ at my heels (and claiming my sister), I want to fight. I want to live.
Louise and I were talking today (after her time with Him, of course), about possible ways to escape. We’re hoping The Man will leave the door open again. It would give us a chance. We were trying to think of what tricks we might try once we know the door is open.
Michael saw us talking and joined in. I expected Louise to ignore him like she had been, but she asked him a question.
“What do you think, Mike?”
“Oh, well, um.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we should expect Him to leave the door open again. Not after…what happened. We have to think of another way to escape.”
“I agree.” Louise said. “It’s also time for you to tell us all about those hunting trips you took with Him.”
* * * *
October 4th
There was never an astounding number of Wasters around, but the herd has been cut to three. The Man led the last few up the stairs with Him , unusual behavior when He used to let them starve to death.
Yesterday, He took contestant #3 upstairs, and their prize was-----
DING, DING DING:
Torture and/or murder.
Based on the screams and occasional “No, no, please, no’s!”, it probably wasn’t the vacation they were hoping for.
There are two reasons he could be killing the Wasters: for fun, or for food.
“If that’s true, I hope he’s not adding them to our rations.” Michael joked with me.
‘Cept, he wasn’t joking. Although, I don’t think He would do that. Not because He cares about us or because that’d be plain sick (He’s beyond sick), but because He cares more about His own survival than ours. I’m pretty sure He’s saving the bodies of the Wasters for Himself.
That’s what I have to tell myself every time I take a bite of gruel.
* * * *
Downstairs in Christopher’s kitchen, Ashley founds every culinary tool to be imagined. All of the oak cabinets were well-stocked. As inviting as the array of food was, Ashley had none of it. She didn’t feel comfortable taking food from a foreign kitchen. Her stomach protested at her pride. He won’t miss one protein bar, she thought. The protein bar was long devoured when Juniper came downstairs an hour later.
Ashley was lounging in the entertainment den. Numerous set of remotes and their complicated buttons had impeded her entertainment for about ten minutes. Through her skills of deduction, Ashley had figured out how to use the television.
“Whatcha watchin’?”
She was astonished to see Juniper dressed in soft white pants and a pink polo. Even her hair and makeup was simple, but pretty. If Ashley hadn’t seen her in the blue tube dress and loads of eyeliner the night before, she would have thought Juniper to be a respectable woman. She cringed internally. Juniper was respectable anyway. Her line of work didn’t matter.
Juniper grinned at her as if she could sense Ashley’s internal chastisement of herself.
“Oh, it’s a movie about a girl finding her way through this maze, and strange things happen to her. Forget what it’s called.” Ashley said.
“Labyrinth?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
On the television, Jennifer Connolly was dancing with the Goblin King. “She kinda looks like you.”
Ashley turned off the television. “I don’t see it.”
“So, what time is your flight?”
“Six o’clock.”
“Do you wanna hang out here, or do you want me to drop you off at the airport now?”
“If it’s alright, I’d like to go to the airport now.”
For the past few hours, Ashley had been bored and sad, a bad combination. Anxiety crept into her, urging her to move on. A couple of times, she had dialed the same cab company she had used the night before. When they had picked up, she had hung up on them. While she was ready to leave, she also wanted to say goodbye to her savior, however odd the circumstances. Above all, Ashley wanted to be on the plane, on her way to a safer place.
“That’s fine, but can I ask you something first?”
The strange prickling on Ashley’s scalp was back. “Okay.”
“Who did you lose?”
It was like waves crashing on the shore. “I…don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes you do.”
The sudden intensity of Juniper’s questioning through her off so early in the morning. She expected false niceties and stilted conversation.
“Why are you asking me this?” Mercifully, the tingling subsided from a roar to a hum.
“I have a sense about people.”
When Juniper said sense, Ashley didn’t think it was a euphemism. She believed Juniper could look into her soul, hear her thoughts, know who she was and what she wanted to do. Okay, calm down, she told herself. She’s just a person, just like you. Ashley knew people weren’t capable of hearing each other’s thoughts. It wasn’t possible. Although, until recently she also believed people were basically good, and murder and pain could never touch her.
“A sense? Like telepathy?”
Juniper shook her head. “Not telepathy. More like I can feel what other people are experiencing. I can feel their emotions.”
“That is really nifty.” Maybe Juniper was respectable, but she was also crazy. “What does it have to do with me?”
“Ever since I was l
ittle, I knew when my mother was mad at me, and I knew which boys liked me.”
Ashley’s impatience must have shown on her face, or she read it inside my head, she thought. Juniper sped up the pace of her story.
“Once in a while, I met people with a black hole inside. I never could understand why it was different than everyday sadness. My understanding about it came later.” She didn’t elaborate on the ‘later’ part. “The black hole was there because they lost someone they loved. When I first saw you, a shadow moved inside of you, and it’s still there, growing.” Juniper let her story sink in before she asked her question again. “So, who did you lose?”
“My father.” Tears fell as soon as Ashley spoke.
“What happened?”
“He was murdered.” She could barely get the words out.
“I’m very sorry. Is that why you want to run away?”
Ashley nodded.
Juniper stayed silent. In the background, Ashley felt the tingle, filling up the space between her ears. Distant, but near. It’s her, Ashley thought.
“Well, if you’re gonna fool the people at the airport into thinking you’re sixteen, you’ll need better clothes.”
Ashley looked down at her pink t-shirt and jean coveralls. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“You look too much like your age. Let’s go back upstairs. I’m sure the guest closet has a few things we can use. Chris’ll never miss any of it.”
****
14
October 6th
Louise and Michael are still figuring out the plan. Escape is more important than ever because there aren’t any Wasters left. The Man took the last one this morning.
Marc had the guts to ask what no one else would: “What are you doing with them?”
As if we all didn’t know.
The Man only smiled.
Michael asked Louise what was going to happen to Marc and Gabriella once we left.
Louise’s face looked as if the answer were obvious. “Why, they’re coming with us, of course.”
“Louise, they’re going to be dead weight. Marc is paranoid and Gabriella is equally as useless in her stupidity.”
My opinion of Michael had evolved, but never too unfavorably. Right then, I wasn’t sure I liked him anymore.
“We’re all getting out, despite the qualifications you've made up. Or are you going to next explain to me how children are dead weight as well?”
Michael shut up.
Even so, we haven’t told Marc or Gabriella about the plan. Although Louise didn’t want to agree with her husband, he had a point; they’re not exactly stable people. One whiff of the plan and they might either spill the beans or impede the hell outta the beans in some other way.
And they better not leave me behind! I do so contribute. Heck, I donated the weapons needed for the plan.
The Man really shouldn’t have given me a whole pack of pens and pencils. It was rather dumb of him.
Nothing else interesting has happened lately…um….except for that.
Hmmm.
The lights
just
went
out.
* * * *
A few things turned into an entire outfit. A tennis skirt, blue polo, and silk headband later, Ashley and Juniper were out the door. It had taken them two hours to leave the house, mostly because Ashley couldn’t stop looking at herself in the mirror. The girl staring back at her seemed older, and sad.
“This is so weird.” Ashley smoothed her skirt for the tenth time. “It’s like looking at who I’m going to be.”
Juniper smiled at her, looking like a proud mother.
“You do look older. You should get used to dressing like this all the time,” She grimaced, “even if that skirt is a little short for your actual age.”
“You sound like my dad…” Ashley ducked her head.
“The skirt makes a good distraction. Every person will be too busy looking at your legs to notice your baby face.”
She was glad Juniper had gone on with the conversation, skipping over Ashley’s mention of her father. “Thank you.”
Juniper didn’t ask what for. “You’re welcome. It’s already three.”
“Okay.”
When they were on the main floor, Ashley remembered something.
“Hang on, I’ll be right outside.”
Juniper was halfway out of the door with Ashley’s luggage. “Hurry up!”
Ashley ran into the basement. Christopher was out on errands, or so Juniper had told her. A dark basement confirmed his absence. She tore a piece of paper from a notepad on his desk. “Thank you for helping me”, she wrote. After that, Ashley was going to sign her name, but on an impulse, she scribbled, “By the way, I think she loves you too”. It was all she could think of in way of returning the favor. She ran back upstairs and out to the car.
****
It was done. Ashley was on the plane. She had Juniper and Christopher to thank for that. If Ashley’d had her way, they both would have been sitting in the seats next to hers. As it was, first class was fairly empty.
Ashley was on her own. Twelve was too young an age to be independent, and Ashley was scared shitless. However, the thought of starting a new life also filled her with excitement. She was eager to forget about the horrible things she had seen in the last day. It was depressing she had to do it without company.
“Here’s a crazy idea: why don’t you and Christopher come with me?”
They were parked in the lot at the airport. Ashley’s sudden outburst was received with a sad smile from Juniper.
“That’s sweet, but it wouldn’t work.”
“Why? Don’t you love him?”
Juniper reeled back in her seat.
“I---that doesn’t matter. I can’t go.” She lost her bravado and began mumbling. “Can’t go anywhere.”
“But why not?”
There was a second when Juniper considered not sharing her other secret, but what was the harm. The girl was leaving anyway.
“Because, I killed a man.” She corrected herself. “No, not just any man. A cop.”
“Oh.”
Ashley had been hoping her friend was something more, but it seemed Juniper was a stereo-type of herself after all. A college-dropout turned hooker turned cop-killer. Ashley was surprised she was still alive. She tried to think of what she could say to leave the car quickly and without seeming ungrateful. It would be unwise to anger a killer. Her plans died when it was clear Juniper wanted to continue on with her murder story.
“He wasn’t only a cop, though. He was also my pimp, and a bastard. I killed him so that I could be free. But all of his cop buddies are looking for me, his partner in particular. It’s possible his partner is even worse. I’ve heard things about him. Some girls that he’s taken to his house never came back.” Juniper stared off, not really looking at anything, but thinking hard. She came back to what she was saying after Ashley cleared her throat. “Anyway, my picture is everywhere. There’s no way I can leave the city by plane. Suppose I could drive away, but…”
“Are you waiting on him?”
“Christopher? No. He’s waiting on me.”
Ashley sat back and sighed. “Adults are stupid.”
“Yes we are! He’s asked me to marry him, a few times.” Now that they were talking about Christopher, Juniper didn’t want to stop.
“Say yes the next time he asks.”
“I can’t trap him in marriage with a whore. He deserves better, someone brilliant and ambitious like him.”
“He doesn’t want to marry someone like him. He wants to marry you. Plus, he’s rich. You wouldn’t have to…work anymore.”
“I don’t want his money.” Juniper voice became unusually harsh. “And I’ve tried to quit before, to find a real job. Since I can’t put ‘hooker’ on my resume, it always looks empty. People don’t wanna hire an undergraduate who hasn’t worked in five years. Then, my rent is due and I go right back to my old job.
”
“There’s no shame in being with Christopher so he can help you, like you helped me.”
“That’s why you’re pushing this? To help me? Pay me back?”
Juniper’s questions fired off angrily, and Ashley ran out of words. An angry Juniper was a scary one. Her presence, or her psychic power, left a crackling in the air.
“Not like that, but I do want to help you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I help myself.”
The crackling built up and it scared Ashley. She reached for the door.
“Forget it.” She got out of the car quickly.
Ashley’s bag was in the back seat. Grabbing it meant sticking around another second, a gruesome prospect. But, she needed her things.
“I’ll see you.” She said when she had her bag.
Juniper didn’t look at her. “Yeah, okay. Bye.”
The exchange left Ashley confused. Juniper was odd. While she had wanted to help Ashley, she had also seemed reluctant about it. And she had also shared so much about herself, but had been angry at Ashley’s innocent advice.
Before boarding the plane, Ashley walked along the rows stores in the airport marketplace, looking for a store that sold magazines. At a small bookstand, she bought a paperback by someone named Atwood, along with a few trashy magazines. While waiting in line, she glanced at the newspaper rack positioned by the cash registers. A headline gave her pause:
U.K. SAFEST PLACE TO LIVE.
The subhead read: “Crime rates climb everywhere else”.
Underneath the newspaper, a tabloid’s main story was:
“BOY SPOTTED WHAT HE CLAIMS TO BE 'A MONSTER IN MY CLOSET'”.
Though laughable, the story reminded her of the boy by the bench that had tried to hurt her. God, she needed to leave the city.
Ashley shifted in the cushy airplane seat. She wanted to forget everything. To keep from screaming, she needed to forget about bad men, and monsters in the closet. Those memories could be written over with new ones, and old ones. Although, she would not forget her grandparents, or her father, how he had saved her, or how he had loved her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign. We are about to take off. Please remain seated and buckle up. Thank you.”
