Shiver the Whole Night Through

by Darragh McManus

  ‘I think you know what I mean.’

  ‘You … you did it,’ I whispered. ‘You attacked all those kids.’

  She nodded. Her expression was impossible to read.

  ‘The ones who’d bullied me. It wasn’t animals at all.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘It was you.’

  Sláine nodded again.

  ‘None of those attacks … That’s what you said, about folks being taken by the cold. None of those were down to you, meaning maybe others … were.’

  Another nod.

  ‘For Christ’s sake can’t you speak to me?’ I spat. ‘Stop nodding like a bloody toy dog. Use words, like a normal goddamn … ’

  I stopped talking. She placed her hand over mine. It was freezing, like an ice pack placed against my skin, yet the touch was oddly comforting. So, I realised, this may not have changed anything. This terrible revelation, and yet it appeared I still loved Sláine. I wondered what that said about me. I wondered if I believed in the soul – and whether or not mine was damned.

  I pulled my hand away and fell to the ground, quivering like a newborn calf. I thought I’d throw up if this tension wasn’t released soon. Better to know it all now, I thought. Better to know the worst than imagine it.

  I said, ‘Tell me.’

  Sláine said flatly, ‘I assaulted those boys and girls who’d bullied you. One at a time, quickly, violently, without remorse then or since. And I did it for you.’

  For me. Oh Jesus, don’t say that. Don’t tell me this at all. Say I’m imagining it, I’m hallucinating, we’re stuck in a nightmare together but don’t worry, we’ll wake soon and this will have never happened.

  Except it did. And you know it, Aidan. No more squeezing your eyes shut. No more kids’ tricks. It’s time, as they say, to put away childish things.

  I mumbled, ‘Go on.’

  This time, I swear, the lights at the heart of those underfoot crystals really did flare up, glowing like the three mouths of Cerberus the devil-dog, as Sláine said vehemently, ‘Revenge. Pure and simple. Mankind’s basest instinct in some ways, yet one of our most sublime pleasures too … I did it so you could have revenge.’

  ‘Pleasure?’ I said weakly.

  ‘All right, pleasure is too strong. I won’t deny it gave me some satisfaction, though, getting payback. But please believe me, I did it with the best intentions.’

  ‘The road to hell,’ I recited in a monotone, ‘is paved with good intentions.’

  Sláine ignored this. Instead she said, ‘I knew how far to go. I didn’t cross that final line.’

  ‘Tch. How did you know?’

  ‘I just did. Nobody died, did they? And nobody will.’ She added playfully, ‘Although … ’ and clicked her tongue in a way that annoyed me intensely. How could she be so flippant about this?

  I growled, ‘Although what?’

  ‘I’d gone through them all, one by one, until there was just one more on my list. Your old sweetheart Caitlin. With her silly name and pretty green eyes. I was leaving her until last. She hurt you the worst, so it was appropriate to finish with her. And I think – yes, I’m almost sure – I intended to kill her. Her death would make the perfect ending. Of course, I didn’t. I left before that could happen, and Caitlin escaped.’

  I glared at her. ‘Man, the way you said that. Just recited it off, like you were reading the ingredients on a soup carton.’

  ‘I nearly did kill John Rattigan. I tore him asunder and at that moment, honestly? I didn’t care whether he survived or not. I didn’t care.’

  A warm look came to Sláine’s eyes, and I remembered again who she was. I remembered that girl I’d fallen in love with.

  ‘Aidan, don’t you get it? That’s why I left. I was afraid I couldn’t control it any more. Especially with Rattigan, it was almost a taste in my mouth, but the attacks were all getting increasingly violent, I felt more rage, it was becoming uncontrollable … I needed to be on my own, because being around you made this fury rise in me, again and again.’

  ‘Don’t blame me for this.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m trying to explain. You’re the source of my power, but I guess everything has a flip side. So you’re the source of my rage too. I was afraid to make contact for the last week. I wanted to, so badly. It physically hurt me to be away from you. But … it was necessary.’

  ‘Yet here you stand.’

  ‘I had to come back – to you.’

  I shook my head, rose and started stomping about the cave. I’m sure I looked like a Neanderthal but didn’t care. Just as, it appeared, Sláine didn’t care about these awful things she’d done.

  ‘Don’t you feel bad about it at all?’ I muttered over my shoulder.

  ‘Of course I feel bad,’ she said. ‘I’m not a monster. But I don’t regret doing it, my love. I won’t ever regret it. They deserved what happened. They did you a terrible wrong. Don’t worry, I made it quick. Nothing sadistic about it. I just – hurt them. Like they hurt you. I mean it might have been a wild animal, for all they knew. And if an escaped lion attacked those kids, would you be making moral judgments? You’d say it was awful but there you go, these things happen. Well, this happened. Look, I didn’t get a big kick out of doing it – but I’m glad I did. It was right, Aidan. Natural justice demanded it, every bit as much as nature demands the lion kills its prey.’

  ‘It wasn’t a lion, though. That’s the whole point. It was you. The girl who … the one I love.’

  ‘Love? Not past tense, then?’

  I lied: ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Can you accept this? You had the right to know. Can you accept it? And me?’

  ‘I said I don’t know.’ Another lie.

  Oh, Sláine, oh, sweetheart. My dream, my ghost, my guardian angel and personal demon. What have you done?

  What have we done?

  ‘How did you know who the bullies were?’ I said. ‘I don’t think I mentioned any names besides Caitlin and Rattigan.’

  She shrugged. ‘Just did. I’m not sure how, exactly. Maybe I read your mind. And saw your deepest desire. Something you wanted so badly but couldn’t admit to yourself.’

  I flapped my hands wildly, like that stupid raven waving its wings. ‘Whoa, whoa. I didn’t want anyone badly hurt, Sláine. I might have hated them, but holy shit. Not hospitalised, for God’s sake.’

  ‘Didn’t you? All right, then. I’ll take you at your word. And I’ll stop.’

  ‘Yes. Stop, please.’

  ‘You want Caitlin to go unharmed? Definitely, no doubt in your mind.’

  ‘Yes. Yes.’

  She laughed, as sparkling and beautiful as the first time I heard it. ‘To sail on through life, and enjoy the happiness she stole from you? The life she almost stole. Do you remember the bridge, how you felt standing there?’

  I recalled the few conversations I’d had with Caitlin in recent months, when she’d tried to reach me and I’d blown her off. I suppose she was attempting to make amends. But goddamn it, I thought now, she didn’t need to. None of them did. That was all in the past, there was nothing to atone for any more, no revenge had to be taken. I just wanted the whole sorry saga to … die.

  I said, ‘I don’t think she is that happy. Caitlin, I think she’s wracked with guilt about what she … what happened between us. But I don’t feel good about that. I don’t want her unhappy. It doesn’t matter to me now. And I don’t want her hurt. She can carry on with life, let her off. That’s what we should have done with all of them. Just let them off to Jaysus.’

  ‘You’re saying “we” now.’

  I snapped, ‘Just a figure of speech.’

  Was I as much to blame as Sláine? I didn’t think so. But that didn’t stop me feeling awful about what had gone down – and the fact that hearing all this hadn’t changed my love for her. I don’t think anything could have by this stage. I hated what she’d done, I feared what she was capable of … and I loved her just as much and would go on loving her. I guess t
he heart doesn’t get to choose these things.

  I laughed bitterly. ‘Had you any plans to tell me about this? Like, drop it into conversation at some stage: “By the way, I’ve been on a rampage of vengeance against a bunch of kids, so, uh, just thought you’d like to know.”’

  ‘I’m telling you now.’

  ‘What about the Guards? What might happen to me? They had me down for it, you know. Brought me in the other day and fired a pile of questions at me. I could have been flung in jail.’

  ‘You weren’t.’

  ‘I could have. I was a good suspect. All these kids turn up cut to bits, kids I’d a reason to hold a grudge against … Hell, I would have suspected me.’

  ‘No,’ Sláine said firmly. ‘What evidence did they have linking you to any of it? None, because you hadn’t done anything. But you’re right, I should have thought of that. It caused a problem for you, and I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘But not about actually doing the deed, right?’

  ‘Afraid not.’

  I sighed loudly, feeling beaten and beat. Maybe what she’d said held a splinter of truth. Maybe an evil part of me wanted something awful to befall them.

  ‘Probably some bit of me was glad when those bastards got what was coming,’ I confessed. ‘I don’t know any more. But … I do want you to stop. Please.’

  I looked at her, imploring. Sláine said gently, ‘You don’t have to plead. You’ve said it, so that’s how it’ll be. I’ll do whatever makes you happy.’

  ‘Yeah. Okay. Can we go now? I mean … Ugh. I don’t even know where we’re gonna go. Or what we’re supposed to do. But I don’t want to stay here any longer, if that’s all right.’

  ‘In one minute. Listen, I have to say this: I still have a sense of right and wrong. I need you to know that. But it’s … changed now. I’m more harsh, I suppose, in my feelings towards others. Less forgiving. I used to be a real softie, always quick to forgive. Now I see things in black and white. Literally, but in the emotional sense too.’ She thought for a moment. ‘When you die as a person, I guess a lot of that hesitation and ambiguity dies with you. Heh. You might say I take a colder view now. But absolutely, I still have a – moral code. I’m not evil, Aidan. I wouldn’t hurt just anyone; I didn’t. Only those who deserved it … Well. Got what they deserved.’

  ‘Deserved. And this decided by you.’

  Sláine folded her arms in a defensive posture, the crystals glowing brighter, matching the rising passion in her voice. ‘Do you disagree with my choices? Is there someone on that list who didn’t make your life a misery? Have I made a mistake?’

  I didn’t answer. She went on, ‘I wouldn’t harm someone innocent, or decent or kind. Someone who’d never done anything really bad to a person I cared about. I’d never hurt your family, or mine. Anyone, really, your friend Padraig, anyone … I’m like Michael Corleone: I only kill my enemies. “Kill” used figuratively, don’t worry.’

  ‘Who’s Michael Corleone?’

  ‘Never seen The Godfather?’

  ‘What’s that, some Mafia thing?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Look, it was just those few. The names on my list.’ She smiled. ‘Our list. Be honest.’

  I winced. ‘Please don’t say that. Even jokingly … What was with all that other stuff, anyhow? The way you hit some kids in a different way. Clara Kinnane, the Callaghan girl … that numpty McGuinness – it was you who torched his car, correct?’

  Sláine nodded and shrugged, saying lazily, ‘A bit of variety, nothing more than that. To be honest, I’d have been happy just beating them all up. But … life after death gets boring sometimes. I wanted to spice it up. And it amused me, I must confess. Driving that girl Clara half-insane, little by little – I’m sorry, that was funny.’

  ‘Fully insane, by all accounts.’

  ‘Fully, then. Even funnier.’

  Was she pulling my leg? I couldn’t tell any more.

  ‘Those kids were the lucky ones,’ Sláine added. ‘They got away lightly.’

  I thought of gouged-out eyes and amputated limbs, deep wounds to faces and abdomens, brain injury, drooling vegetables being fed by tubes, and felt queasy. I wanted this sickening montage of images to get the hell out of my brain but it wouldn’t.

  Sláine looked towards the horizon – blue-black in the moonlight, no sign of dawn inching its way towards us. She said bitterly, ‘That idiot whose car I burned out … tch. He should count his blessings he wasn’t tied to the bonnet.’

  There went the crystal lights again, pulsing in tune with her anger. I yelped, ‘Jesus Christ, are you serious? Will you stop saying things like that, please.’

  ‘Those bullies didn’t suffer,’ she said quietly. ‘Not like they caused you to suffer. It was right they be made to pay. I know it was – so do you. Like I said: it was your deepest desire. You just didn’t want to admit that.’

  I put my head in my hands, pulled at my hair – I could feel it lifting at the roots but kept pulling. ‘Was it? God help me if that’s the case.’

  Sláine whipped her arms around me and guided us to the cliff edge. I braced myself for transit. She smiled and touched her cold lips to my forehead. Then she mumbled into my hair, my hands, ‘God can’t help you now, sweetheart. But I can. I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry.’

  It was impossible not to worry. She must have known that. By this stage, I was nothing but worry. Then Sláine did something I couldn’t even begin to imagine, and the universe shifted and we –

  My home, my bedroom. I was lying on the bed, coat zipped up fully, hood over my head, a blanket covering my legs. The room was very cold although I could hear the clicking of a storage heater somewhere. I looked around in surprise.

  ‘How … ? This is my house. Is it safe for you to be here?’

  ‘Yes. We’re safe for now. Close your eyes. You need to rest.’

  ‘No, I mean what if my parents come in? Or someone hears us.’ I automatically lowered my voice.

  ‘Nobody will hear us.’

  I whispered, ‘What if you’re wrong?’

  ‘I’m not. Rest.’

  ‘I need a smoke.’

  I fumbled for my tobacco but it wasn’t where I usually kept it. It was in Sláine’s hands and she was rolling a cigarette at bewildering speed, white fingers a blur of movement. She passed it to me and placed an ashtray on the floor nearby.

  I rolled onto my side, lit the fag and spoke at a normal volume – guess I’d have to trust that her voodoo was working and we couldn’t be heard by anyone else. ‘Since when have you been able to roll cigarettes?’

  ‘You’d be amazed what I’m capable of, pumpkin.’

  I shuddered and didn’t try to hide it. ‘I don’t think I would.’

  I took a long drag – it hit like a punch of pure relaxation, if that makes sense, to my throat. ‘Man. That’s good.’

  Sláine tutted. ‘You shouldn’t smoke. Those things will kill you.’

  I smiled wryly. ‘You’re never more alive than when you’re on the edge of death, that’s my motto.’ It was a joke but, I was realising, that line sounded a note of truth too.

  Silence hung between us. I broke it by saying, ‘Hey. This is the first time you’ve been in my room.’

  ‘First time you were aware of.’

  ‘God, what a joke. Something like that is supposed to be romantic … ’

  ‘It is romantic. Come on. We’re together, aren’t we? Sláine and Aidan, the two of us together. We can take on the world, can’t we?’

  She didn’t sound that sure of it herself and I didn’t respond. Further silence, as heavy and impenetrable as a shroud. Sláine wanted to say more, I could tell – I could always tell. In some ways she was a deeper mystery now than during those insane, is-this-really-happening early days. But I still knew when she had something on her mind and was steeling herself to voice it.

  Finally she said, ‘Snap decision.’

  Nothing more was added. I said, ‘Are you going to ex
plain what that means, or will I guess?’

  ‘That’s why I attacked the first one. A snap decision.’

  ‘Chris Harrington.’

  ‘Yes. Him. I went for a wander that night and passed Mr Harrington, stumbling along the river walk. Some gut instinct told me he was one of them, that he’d hurt you … His handsome face. I think that’s what pushed me over the edge. He had this arrogant sneer. The kind of self-regarding asshole who treats girls badly because he knows he can. And I thought, fuck you, Chris Harrington. This is where all that ends.’

  I shuddered again. ‘So you’d torn Harrington to bits. But there was a gap then, a few weeks.’

  ‘After that first attack,’ Sláine said, ‘I got tired, if you can believe it. Not immediately, but when you left on the Monday, I suddenly felt exhausted. I needed to rest. Not sleep – I never sleep – but lie down, rest.’

  ‘I remember that. I didn’t believe you. Thought you were blowing me off or something, ha.’

  ‘It was true. I was wrecked. Sort of zonked out for a few days. Absolutely drained of energy.’ She thought. ‘I guess it takes it out of you. Tearing another body apart. There’s actually a lot of resistance to flesh and bone, you know. It’s not like in movies where everything happens easily. You really have to work at—’

  ‘Sláine, stop! For God’s sake will you stop right there. I don’t want to know the details. Bad enough what I do know.’

  She smiled, embarrassed. ‘Sorry. Anyway, next time I recovered much more quickly. Now I’m fairly confident I could do it whenever I wanted and it wouldn’t take anything out of me.’

  I laughed, a faintly hysterical edge to it. ‘Well, feck it. That’s good to know, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really.’

  I stubbed out my smoke, got up and walked to the shelf by the window. I couldn’t look at Sláine right then. Instead I gazed over the trinkets arrayed there: bits and pieces I’d accumulated over the years. Junk mostly, but each held some enduring attraction for me, spoke to my sentimental side. A lighter shaped like a Chinese warrior. An ashtray with the London Underground logo. Two metallic stones my sister brought me as a gift from somewhere. A resin gargoyle sitting cross-legged, tongue out, a malevolent raspberry at the world.