The Damned of Lost Creek

by Danae Ayusso

  Price chuckled. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. You don’t seem too upset about it, thus it shouldn’t be a concern. Since you’re up and I’m up, did you want to go for a drive with me and we can get breakfast in a couple of hours when the diner opens?” he asked, getting to his feet.

  “Like a father-daughter date?” I asked.

  A smile consumed his face.

  “Exactly,” he said.

  I got to my feet. “Do I need to get dressed?” I asked, looking down at my baggy sweatpants and oversized college shirt.

  Again, Price smiled. “Not at all. I’m just going to slip into some sandals and grab a sweatshirt.”

  “Works for me!” I beamed with a face-consuming smile and he chuckled and led the way.

  ****

  “You should have seen it,” I said, talking with my mouth full. “Ooh parking enforcement was so pissed!”

  Price chuckled before taking a drink of his tea. “I’d imagine so with a skinny blonde standing on top of their tow truck reciting Hamlet with a construction cone on her head,” he agreed before shaking his head in amusement.

  I nodded my agreement. “Blue Boy was able to slip in the car while I had them distracted so they couldn’t legally hook it up. Chalk one up for the hood instead of the man!”

  After driving around listening to music on the classic rock station for a couple of hours, the diner Price wanted to eat at opened promptly at four and we were the first in the door. The waitress, Birdie, didn’t question our questionable attire or the fact we looked as if we just rolled out of bed. In fact, the old lady chuckled over it and gave Price a quick peck on the cheek when she motioned for him to seat himself. I thought he would have been asking questions about the dreaming thing, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything on the drive and merely sang under his breath with the radio.

  I envied his contentment in the simplistic things.

  “Pajama party and I wasn’t invited?” Simian called out from the entrance then showed himself to our booth. He flopped down next to his brother then stole a piece of bacon from Price’s plate. “What are you two doing up so early?” he asked with his mouth full.

  Price shook his head. “And for a passing moment I was wondering where Mikhail got her table manners from, but then I look at my brother and it all makes sense,” he said.

  Simian and I each gave him a mocking face causing Price to laugh.

  “Point made,” he said with a wink. “We went for a drive, enjoyed some classic tunes, and got breakfast. A father-daughter date that you are ruining.”

  Simian smiled wide before taking another piece of bacon from Price’s plate then shoved it in his mouth and chewed with a smile.

  I chuckled. “There’s no way you’re a cop,” I said, eying him. He wore an untucked brown Sheriff’s uniform top that was partially buttoned over an undershirt, a pair of flannel pajama pants, and flip-flops that looked prison issued. “Seriously, what in the hell are you wearing?” I asked before roaring with laughter, realizing that they were, indeed, prison shower sandals.

  Price smiled and Simian merely shrugged, taking the coffee that Birdie brought over to him before smacking her on the ass when she headed off.

  “Dude, ew,” I said before laughing even harder.

  The waitress was older than Ellie and had at least a hundred-pounds on her.

  “Thank you,” Price whispered.

  Simian smiled wide before pulling the stack of pancakes from Price’s breakfast into him and helped himself. “I had a rather long night,” he said, cutting into the short stack. “After twenty-hours in uniform, I took a nap in a holding cell. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as I remember it being,” he said before shoving a bite in his mouth. “Then I had to deal with Marian again,” he told his brother, talking with his mouth full. “This time they’ll have to fish his car out of Daly Lake. Matthieu tried wielding his cock of authority but I prevailed.”

  Price nodded his understanding. “Hence why you’re partially in uniform,” he said.

  “Header into the lake, took a knee in the muck when baptizing that annoying prick,” Simian confirmed before shoving another bite in his mouth. “Matthieu is nursing two black eyes and a broken nose. It was a much needed adjustment to his fugly mug if you ask me.”

  “Simian,” Price scolded and it caused me to chuckle.

  Watching them together, it was clear which is the older brother and which is the troublesome baby brother. Simian acted like a child, from what I’ve seen of him, but he was virtually harmless, even with his badge. Price was the mature one in the family and the more than apparent leader. Sometimes it was as if he was centuries old and that he was tired and ready to throw in the towel, and at other times it was as if he was a teenager experiencing happiness for the first time.

  I leaned back in the booth and watched the two-squished together banter back and forth. It was amusing, but there was something almost reassuring about it.

  Yes, it’s like looking in a fucking mirror.

  Sadly, yes.

  Justice and I argue like that, act like that, when she isn’t being a completely psychotic bitch.

  Only when it’s needed.

  Which, out here, shouldn’t be often…

  I hope.

  I’ve been rather good lately. I deserve a gold star.

  Whatever.

  What should have been an awkward morning was anything but, and that was because of Price and now Simian.

  “You two are ridiculous,” I said when Birdie brought over three more short stacks.

  “Don’t mind them, Sweetheart,” she said, setting the plates down then smooched her lips at Simian and he winked. “That’s what family looks like, siblings that love each other to no end. They bicker and disagree, but in the end, each other is all they have. Eddy will have your angels on horseback and beef-on-wreck out in a jiff, Sheriff.” She pulled a bottle of aspirin from her apron and set it on the table. “I had a feeling you’d be needing Bernice,” she said then headed off to pick up an order.

  Simian sighed, watching her wide backside as she walked away. “I love that woman,” he said before opening the bottle and popped four pills in his mouth. “It’s like she can read minds.”

  “Again, ew,” I said and he winked at me.

  “Why do I bother?” I rhetorically asked and he chuckled.

  I went back to my breakfast, watching the two talk under their breaths about something I was sure I wasn’t supposed to be aware of. They were speaking French, but my French isn’t nearly good enough to follow what they were saying so I didn’t attempt to eavesdrop. Listening to them, it made me curious about why my delusion is French. No one in Philly, that I knew, was French nor did they speak it. It was near impossible to find a bakery in the hood that could make a decent croissant…

  Speaking of, that sounds really good right now.

  “Do they have croissants?” I blurted out, interrupting them.

  They looked at me curiously.

  “No, it’s a greasy spoon, Mikey,” Simian reminded me. “Your father… Price can get you some of the best French food in the state if you want. He has connections.”

  “You don’t have to,” I assured him; it sounded like a lot of work.

  Price smiled. “Consider it done,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  Simian waved a forkful of food at his brother. “Jacquie is still laughing his ass off over the means you asked him to go through to deliver your packages in Philly,” he said.

  That piqued my interest.

  “Mama Jones said that it was rather comical,” I said.

  Simian smiled wide. “That doesn’t begin to paint the picture, Mikey. He had Jacquie pound on the door wearing his FBI field jacket and badge then carried boxes into the house that were marked evidence. The things Price sent back east were hidden in the boxes. After a couple of hours, he exited the house carrying the boxes as if they were full. Apparently the block is gossiping about Mrs. Jones being involved in s
ome major Federal shit. Way to go, Brother.”

  I giggled; that wasn’t hard to picture.

  Anytime the Feds or Marshalls rolled through the neighborhood it gave whoever’s door they knocked on street cred and respect.

  “I hope Mama and De’Von weren’t too hard on him during his visit,” I said.

  Simian smirked. “Oh no, not at all. De’Von amused the hell out of him… That little brat says fuck more than you do. And Mrs. Jones is apparently Jacquie’s type and they hit it off and then some.”

  My eyes widened. “Shut up!”

  “He’s like his old man and loves a lady with curves,” Simian said with a wink before shoving another bite of pancake in his mouth.

  “I’m not entirely sure what to say about that,” I said.

  Way to go Mama! Get yourself a piece of ass. You deserve it.

  That wasn’t what I was going to say, but thanks for the confidence.

  Price shook his head in aspiration. “How we’re related I’ll never know.”

  Simian nodded his agreement. “I ask that as well, because let’s face it, I’m the cute one!” he beamed and Price chuckled. “I heard Shep got his ass handed to him,” he said, changing the subject. “The beating he dished out was rather impressive, from what Matthieu was going on about. You’d be happy to know he didn’t fight back until Shep started running his mouth about someone, then he fought back like a champ and, well, you saw the result when he came home with his tail tucked. Nick wasn’t amused, I’m sure.”

  Price shook his head. “Not now,” he warned.

  Simian pretended to button his lips.

  “Who are you talking about?” I asked.

  “It isn’t important,” Price assured me.

  I looked at him. “You’re lying,” I said. “You promised you wouldn’t lie to me.”

  He sighed, shaking his head.

  “Huh,” Simian said. “She can read as well as you do,” he said then laughed. “There’s no reason to hide that. The evidence is pretty clear from the damage to Shep’s face. He got into it with Draven again.”

  Price’s eyes widened and he held his breath, his attention on me.

  Huh, weird reaction.

  No shit.

  “Okay, who’s Draven-” I started to ask, and the moment the name left my lips a searing in my head caused me to fall over in the booth.

  “Mikhail!” Price gasped, shoving his brother out of the way. “Are you okay?”

  Impenetrable darkness blanketed my mind, and silence fell around me.

  I felt Price’s hand shaking my shoulder, but I couldn’t at the same time. It felt as if I was there and then I wasn’t.

  All around me is darkness…

  Consuming and suffocating, I’m alone, I know I am, but I’m not.

  “Justice?” I stammered. “Please don’t do this to me now, Justice. Please,” I pleaded.

  “Non,” a child’s voice said from behind me.

  I spun around to face them and the darkness was suddenly illuminated in light.

  It wasn’t the creepy white bitch from the woods, it was something else… Someone else.

  The little boy stood there looking up at me, his round cheeks were rosy and pale ivory skin caused his shoulder length black hair and dark eyes to stand out.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I whispered, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat.

  The look he gave me made me glare; I’ve seen that look before, but not from him.

  “C'est pour toi que je suis là,” he said.

  “You’re here for me?” I mumbled, confused.

  He nodded. “Toi et moi, ça ne changera pas,” he whispered before taking my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “J’ai besoin de toi.”

  Need me for what?

  “Tu te reveilles,” he scolded with a smirk, causing a dimple to recess deeply in his cheek on one side.

  My eyes snapped opened and I looked around, confused.

  “Mikey?” Simian asked, giving me a look. “You with us, Kid?”

  “Holy shit,” I gasped, fighting to right myself and the searing stopped.

  “What is it?” Price asked. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Huh, perhaps diner food wasn’t the best choice after all that ice cream,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “A migraine, I think. Can I have some of those aspirin Birdie brought you?”

  Simian shook his head. “I’ll grab you some coffee,” he said before hurrying behind the counter.

  “Mikhail, are you okay?” Price asked, helping me sit up.

  The diner no longer spun around me and the searing in my head stopped. The flashes of light flooding my vision receded and the crushing pain in my chest ceased.

  What in the hell was that?

  Are you talking to me?

  Yes.

  I don’t know. One moment you were there and the next gone.

  What?

  Okay, one moment I was there and then I was gone. How’d you do that?

  Beats me but I assure you I’ll never do it again. It hurt like hell!

  That’s what you get.

  “Mikhail?” Price asked, softly shaking my shoulder.

  I jumped, startled, and pulled away from him.

  “Sorry,” he apologized, lowering his hand.

  “No, I’m sorry. It was a really weird migraine with a vision-dream thing, I think. But it’s gone now. That isn’t normal, is it?” I surmised from the look on his face.

  Price shook his head. “Yes, no, possibly?”

  “Not very helpful from the genius at the table,” I dryly commented, taking the coffee Simian was offering me.

  “Sorry, this is new to me,” Price reminded me. “Have you had visions before?”

  “Like that?” I clarified.

  They both nodded.

  Why are neither of them a bit surprised or weirded out by that question?

  That’s a good question. I’m starting to think that we might be the only sane ones in the family.

  That’s a terrifying thought.

  No shit! I’m starting to think that our level of crazy isn’t measurable compared to those in the family.

  Ah, normality.

  “No. I’m not a gypsy or whatever,” I said with a chuckle; Justice thinks she’s fucking hilarious. I dumped some sugar and cream in the sludge Simian brought me. “It was a waking dream that I actually remember… Did I pass out?”

  They looked at each other then back to me and shook their heads before shrugging, appearing as if they were twins.

  “Seriously?” I asked with a chuckle and Simian smiled wide. “You two are ridiculous. There’s no denying you’re brothers,” I said before taking a drink of coffee.

  Play it off. That’s the only way to keep them from freaking out.

  I know.

  “When I was in Philly sometimes I’d have blackouts, but I thought that was from Justice,” I said with a shrug before nibbling on a piece of bacon before Simian could steal it. “Do you think something of a neurological nature could be wrong?”

  Price shook his head. “I don’t know. When we get your physical for school we can ask the doctor.”

  Oh hell no.

  “But I don’t want a doctor sticking their nose in my girl parts,” I whined.

  Coffee came out Simian’s nose and Price’s eyes widened and his complexion paled considerably.

  That was funny.

  Simian shook his head. “You are evil in ways that I didn’t think were possible,” he said. “Well played, Mikey.”

  I smiled wide.

  Price pulled his hands over his face. “I’m not ready for this,” he huffed.

  “Throwing in the towel already, Brother?”

  He glared at Simian. “No, but I think I’m going to have to get lessons from Nick.”

  “Oh yeah, because that’ll end so well for you,” Simian said. “Remind me again what the last chapters consist of? Or should I say, who?” he mused, wagging his brows before shoving a pancake
in his mouth. “Nick is the last person you should be taking pointers from.”

  I oddly felt like the third-wheel all of a sudden, but Simian was effectively distracting Price from my little migraine-vision-blackout thing.

  Did you want to talk about it?

  Not really, but you’ll bug the shit out of me until I tell you.

  Glad you know me so well after all these years.

  It was darkness all around me, I was here but then I wasn’t but I still was.

  That doesn’t make sense. The nerve of some people to say you’re a fucking genius.

  Yeah, I know, right?

  Tone noted.

  A little boy was there. He was French and I understood a few things he said. He said he needed me or I needed him… Then he told me to go, I think.

  Uh, what? Have you been popping pills when my back’s turned?

  I rolled my eyes and looked at the window next to me.

  Do you honestly think I’d do that? Mom was the biggest pill-popping bitch in Philly!

  I know, but do you hear yourself? she asked, her reflection giving me a look.

  Nothing has ever sounded normal when it comes to us…

  Case in point: the little white bitch on the other side of the glass.

  “I want to play,” she snarled, her body flickering in the yellow glow from the lampposts lining the parking lot.

  “You aren’t real,” I whispered, shaking my head.

  She smirked. “You will play with me,” she snarled before swiping at the glass just as the sun peeked out from behind the mountains and she vanished.

  I scrambled away from the windows, climbing up over Price before falling to the floor. I continued across the floor until my progression was stopped when I backed myself up against the side of the front counter.

  Price looked between me and the window, before his eyes widened.

  “Oh shit,” Simian said, getting to his feet. “Brother, don’t. It was dark out, so it wasn’t him and you said he promised you no games.”

  “There are others,” he snarled.

  Holy shit. So that’s where we get the temper from? Good to know.

  I looked away from Price since he was scaring me to the windows and my eyes widened.

  Deep scratch marks cut through the double paned glass windows right where Dandy had been standing, and apparently Price saw them.