Snatching the knife from its place on the ground, he grabbed a dishcloth from one of the many closets and wiped off the handle, setting it back in the drawer.
“And hopefully that’s the last we’ll see of that psychopath,” he muttered, eyeing the pool of sparkling liquid that was spreading across his floor. “What a waste of wine.”
Chapter 28
The Hero
There was a cool wind blowing away the heat, bringing with it new ideas, new places. The sleepy town of Werifesteria sat one again in comfort, found itself at peace for the first time in weeks. A false hope, yes, but hope nonetheless. Assurance in their savior, Cyrus, the foreigner who’d come to release them. And this is how they slept at night.
It was never more obvious than at church. Sitting in the back, minding his own business, he was surprised and somewhat irritated to see the associate pastor and a few of the deacons whispering near the front, constantly glancing back at him. He knew they were planning something.
Just as he began to stand up, aiming to confront them or perhaps sneak out the back, the associate pastor took his place at the podium and Cyrus settled back into his seat. Whatever trouble they were brewing, it was too late for him to stop it. If the pastor was going to turn the congregation against him, so be it.
Have I done anything rude lately? he thought with a hint of amusement. Not that I remember...
“We gather here today for the glory of our God,” the young pastor began his morning announcements. Each and every week he seemed more comfortable at the forefront of this herd. “But it would be foolish of us -even stupid- to ignore the efforts of one man who has given us the peace and security to gather here.”
Cyrus gritted his teeth. He preferred being hated to becoming the center of a religion.
“It’s been a while, ladies and gentleman, since we had to worry about a murder. The last few days, even weeks, have been peaceful, calm, compared to the past. And there is only one person to thank for this sudden shift. Cyrus, if you would please join me on stage.”
The ceremony lasted only a few minutes, but it was painful nonetheless. It began with a few kind words from the pastor, some ill-timed jokes, and finally a thunderous round of applause as the deacons entered from the side to hand Cyrus an envelope. Among the crowd, however, he saw there were still a dozen or so faces, unconvinced, and they stared back at him maliciously. No matter what he did, those would never be won over. Not brave enough to boo him out loud, but spiteful nonetheless. They didn’t believe.
“A little monetary reward,” the pastor said with a grin. “Thank you, Cyrus. We all know you didn’t come here to be a hero, but that’s what you’ve become to us. If there is anything we can do for you, any assistance or troubles we might be able to heal, our community would be more than willing to serve you in every capacity possible.”
Thinking back on Anne, and how this obsession seemed similar, he chuckled and shook the pastor’s hand. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be alright. I don’t need-”
“No, thank you! One more round of applause, now, for the man who saved our town from the demonic pagan haunting our streets, that cursed angel Satan!” He shoved the envelope into Cyrus’s hand and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Back in his seat, Cyrus quietly opened the paper, finding a check for five-hundred dollars inside. He held it gingerly between two fingers, mulling over his options.
When the offering plate came around, he slipped the check into it, and crept out the back door of the church during the next song.
>!<>!<>
As Will was leaving church, he caught a glimpse of Zada, wearing a black dress that looked more appropriate for a funeral, her hairs in neat braids. Her skin looked a shade darker, like she’d been outside more, and there was a long cut on her cheek. He felt a pang of emotion in his heart, as her eyes flicked towards him and they each held their breath for a moment.
Then he was pushed along by the crowd of people leaving, and bowed his head to avoid her gaze. It was too much. It’d been a little over a week since they last talked, and he still couldn’t sleep well at night. They hadn’t been dating for an incredibly long time, so it had to be something about the way it’d ended, the shock and sharp realization. Or perhaps she really was special to him.
“You alright, son?” one of the older men asked Will as he made his way out of the cramped church building.
He nodded, mumbled a short reply, and followed the crowd.
After he’d eaten lunch at home and changed into more comfortable clothes, he grabbed his phone, earbuds, and left the house. He turned the volume loud enough to block out any other noise. The familiar warning from adults, about it hurting your ears, played in his head for a moment before emotions drowned everything else.
With his methodically-selected set of songs blasting, he threw up his hood and began his melancholy march around the block. He’d gotten to know the lay of the land very well lately, how every street intersected with others. It would only take him ten minutes to reach his favorite spot, a small park called Johnson.
Johnson consisted of a gravel trail, marking out a rough circle around a small lake. There would be strangers there fishing, usually, or mothers taking their children to the playground. Occasionally a dog, or a teenage group with their bikes. Either way, he ignored them all, focusing only on the words and chords flooding into his mind, coupled with the feeling of gravel crunching underneath his feet, as he traced the quarter-mile circle.
“Nice day out here, eh?” one of the men fishing called. Will ignored him.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. He grabbed it, turning half his attention to the screen. As soon as he registered the message, his eyes widened. Will took off sprinting, making his way back home as fast as his thin shoes could go.
Arriving home, he raced inside, snatched his keys from the counter, and made a B-line for his car. As he backed out of the driveway, he ran a hand through hair, trying to straighten it and check his face for any pimples.
Zada: I wanna talk to u. can u come 2 the bball court?
Will: b there in 10
When the court came into view, he was disheartened to see a group of boys on the opposite goal, shooting and occasionally glancing at Zada, who shot on the near side. He parked his car, heart thudding in his chest, and took a deep breath. Throwing his earbuds and phone on the opposite seat, he shoved the keys in his pocket and made his way towards her.
“Hey,” she said. He took a tentative step onto the asphalt, marked with painted lines he didn’t understand.
“Hi.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “Nice outside. Good… weather.” Mentally chiding himself, Will stuck both hands in the pockets of his pants, smiling awkwardly.
“I wanna give us another chance.” She watched his face closely, gauging his expression.
“What? Really? I mean-”
“Will…” She took a deep breath and reached out one hand for his. “I’m sorry. I overreacted, and I was blaming you. The point is, I really want you in my life. We made a mistake, and it’s something we’re not going to repeat, but not something to break us up.”
He grinned, squeezing her hand tightly.
“One condition, though,” she added with a smile. “You have to play a game of basketball with us. Right now.”
Will frowned, shifting his eyes to view the rest of the court that was so foreign and frightening. “Can I choose something else?”
“Nope.”
The game didn't take long. They only played to 21, half-court, 3 versus 3. Zada was able to easily take control. Every move she made seemed flawless, and there were times Will stood back in awe. At one point, she faked a shot and fired a behind-the-back pass directly at him. He dropped the ball, watching it bounce off his foot and out of bounds.
She patted him on the back, and his other teammate was encouraging as well. Not exactly what he’d expected.
It came down to the last two points, with hi
s team (Zada’s team, he thought) leading by double digits. She continued to pass him the ball, despite his shots missing the goal. Every time it clanked off the iron, or fell short of the rim. She’d get the rebound and throw it back.
After what seemed like an eternity, he finally got one to fall through, and started to grin, his face tingling and feeling sheepish.
“See you guys,” Zada called out, leading Will over towards his parked car. They were both sweaty now, but satisfied. “Can you drive me home? My parents dropped me off here earlier, so I need a ride.”
“Yeah.” Will stopped at the edge of the court, glancing down at his scuffed shoes. “Why didn’t you just make it at the end, instead of trying to help me do it?”
“Will, I’d rather you miss a ton of shots and make one than me win the game. You didn’t play that game for me. You did it for yourself.” She wrapped her fingers around his hand and tugged in the direction of the road. “Come on. I can’t miss dinner.”
“I love you,” he blurted out, wincing as soon as the words left. “I mean…”
“It’s fine. You can say it.” She chuckled. “I love you too, Will.”
He unlocked the car, feeling the setting sun beating down on his face with its warm rays, and genuinely was happy for the first time in a week. The day couldn’t have gone better so far.
<><><><><><><><><><>
Cyrus stretched out on his back porch, watching the sun set over his neighboring houses. This place was getting tiresome, the townspeople annoying, and the conversations dull. But he knew something big was coming. He could feel it in the air, smell it.
Every time he drove home and smelled a cookout nearby, the smoke and fire stench wafting into his nostrils, he took a deep breath of it and grinned. His eyes would get foggy for a moment, and his fingers began to tingle with a sensation not even alcohol could give.
He eyed the garden intently, noticing how the freshly-dug dirt produced its own smell, reminding him of hard-working summer days in high school and the way his mother would send them outside to take care of the bushes when he and his brother were younger. That family was long gone, somewhere north or south, too far for him to remember and too distant even to occupy his dreams.
Tapping his foot on the porch, he began to hum a song Ophelia had introduced, back when they were teenagers sharing a CD player and enjoying the late nights with no parents. Back when he was the bad guy, the reason her boyfriend turned into a monster.
He heard soft feet on the grass, coming around the corner of his house. They were too small to be Will’s or any person he usually talked with. There was only one child who would come here, though, without any parents or any prompting.
“Hello, Ruby,” he addressed her.
She came around the corner of his house, not stopping to respond. Instead, she walked right up to the edge of the garden, planting one toe on the edge of the disheveled dirt.
“I told you not to bother me anymore.” Cyrus remained seated, watching her carefully.
“Do people really fall for this?” Ruby asked, squatting down closer to the ground. She took one hand and grabbed a large handful of dirt, frowning as it ran through her fingers and fell away.
“Why are you here?” Cyrus asked, ignoring her remark.
“You know why I’m here, Cyrus. The same reason I always am.”
“I said I was sorry,” he responded in a monotone voice. “And I meant it. I mean it. Can you please… I screwed up, and I accept that. I’m sorry.”
Ruby shook her head, turning to face him. “I bet you’re sorry about the pastor, too.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
With a girlish giggle, she threw both hands over her mouth and started to skip in the direction of his front yard.
“Answer me, Ruby!”
She stopped at the edge of his porch, grinding her teeth and glaring at him with a hate he’d never seen before. “My name…” She took one finger and stuck it down her throat, until she gagged. When she straightened up, her face returned to its cheery self. “You used my name, Daddy.”
“What did you mean about the pastor?”
Ruby closed her eyes, placing the middle fingers of both hands on her eyes and beginning to push. “I know you know more than you say you know.” She continued, until there a voice inside his head was screaming, only it wasn’t her voice, and her mouth wasn’t open. “I know more than you, though.”
“Ruby! Stop!”
She shoved both fingers into her eyes, as far as possible. Blood gushed out, mixed with terrible, disgusting goo. The little girl fell forward, slapping her forehead against the deck. The screaming in his head became unbearable. When Cyrus rushed over to check, she has vanished, no trace or print of her remaining.
“Ruby?” he whispered.
The screaming had subsided.
There was a cool wind blowing away the heat, bringing with it new ideas, new places. The sleepy town of Werifesteria sat one again in comfort, found itself at peace for the first time in weeks. A false hope, yes, but hope nonetheless. Assurance in their savior, Cyrus, the foreigner who’d come to release them. And this is how they slept at night.
Chapter 29
One Foot Out
“Did you know my parents and your parents went to confront Cyrus?” Will asked, staring off into the distance. “After we saw that lady almost get killed? He just told me recently.”
She shook her head. “That’s… weird. My parents used to hate him. Now they think he’s better than the new pastor.”
Will and Zada were perched at the edge of the field, laughing with their arms around each other. Step by step, they approached the rubble ahead, the old church remains. Every time she came here, Zada felt like this was a separate world, holding more secrets than she could ever hope to discover.
“I always knew my parents didn’t like him,” Will said, that same thoughtful expression on his face. “At least now they’ve gotten used to it. When he saved the pastor’s life, they decided he was alright.”
“Crazy how fast gossip gets around in this town,” Zada pondered, smirking a bit.
This was the most comfortable she’d been in weeks, since all the craziness started. Basically, since Cyrus had moved in.
“It’d be nice if somebody mowed this,” Will grumbled, high-stepping over the various weeds that poked up from the ground. “Aren’t fields of grass supposed to be pretty or something?”
Zada grinned. “Yeah, this just sucks.”
It wasn’t wet at all compared to the last time they’d adventured out here. Ever since that rain, it’d been extremely dry for the whole community. All their streets seemed to be caked with dirt, all the yards fading to death from the intense heat. Today, at least, there was a slight wind. Maybe it was bringing a storm to refresh them.
“I’ve been trying to figure out what that means on the stone,” Will said. “Remember the one I pointed out to you?”
“Yeah, but I have no clue what it means.”
They had arrived now, and Will let go of her to climb over the remaining bricks and wood, making his way towards the center. To his left, across the field, the country road sat empty and silent. Everything was quiet except for his own steps and the gentle breeze.
“Don’t know either,” he mumbled to himself. “Don’t know.”
He found the area, squatting down on the grass again and tracing the words with his fingertip, feeling the brick under his nail, dirt-sized pieces falling to the ground. Zada placed a hand on his shoulder, patting him mindlessly.
“Can you think of who might have done it?”
Will shook his head. “I have no idea.”
He took one last glance at the brick, before rising to his feet and taking a seat on one of the larger piles. Zada sat beside him, as they stared off into the distance, at the trees and the road that seemed to stretch on forever. Or at least it went somewhere.
“If we were older,” Will began, fidgeting nervously with a lo
ose string from her jeans, “would you think about marrying me?”
“Would I think about it, or would I do it?” Zada laughed quietly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “I mean… I might. I don’t know what’s gonna happen in the next few years.”
“Probably not much,” Will sighed.
“That’s not a bad thing,” she said. “Sometimes peace and quiet is better for us. I just want us to take thing slow, Will. And not mess up.”
He shrugged, picking up one of her hands with both of his. “I think anybody could have scratched that on the brick, really.”
She squeezed his hand. “We’re alright, Will. I just wanna take it slow.”
“I understand. I do too.”
Zada leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “It feels like we’re over everything, and below it at the same time. All the grass, all the field, it’s under us. But the trees and the sky are still above.”
Will rubbed her neck with his thumb, kissing her hair. “You’re pretty.”
She laughed quietly. “I don’t know why, but it sounds weird when people say that. ‘You’re beautiful’ sounds fine, or ‘you’re cute,’ but pretty is kinda…”
Zada stopped talking, and he felt her shoulders tense. He looked up at the road, where she was staring, and his own lungs seized up. Behind the “Church” sign, a figure had drifted out of the forest, lumbering towards them. They couldn’t make out anything about the gender or identity, but from his furious stomping and hurried steps, Will guessed it was a man.
“Should we leave?” he asked uncertainty.
“I mean, it’s not illegal to be here…”
“That guy doesn’t look like a cop, anyways.” Will took a deep breath and got to his feet. “I think we should go, Zada.”
Until We Burn_A Psychological Thriller Page 15
