The Deadening

by Yvonne Heidt

  Shade dodged left and right as she ran back toward the light. She looked back once, to see her mother’s body twitching and convulsing while she continued to laugh.

  “Hey, Lacey! Ask yourself why you’re here.”

  Shade’s step faltered, and a screeching roar from her right nearly cost her her balance before she shifted and ran straight into a giant set of talons that had materialized and sideswiped her into the spongy wall. She slid to the rocky floor, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of her lungs, and though she tried, she couldn’t move.

  Her body trembled against her will, and she wanted to throw up. A dragging noise drew near from the dark, and the closer it got, the farther the light withdrew. The tiny source was nearly imperceptible when her mother reappeared and toed her in the ribs with one bare foot. The other was still clad in a broken high heel.

  “This is insane,” Shade said. “Get away and stop looking at me. Your face is freaking me the fuck out.”

  “Not happening.” Her mother clapped. “You can’t control the demons you need to face. They are the consequences of the life you chose to live.”

  “I didn’t choose you.” Shade’s jaw clenched.

  “Yes, you did.”

  Shade cringed at the sight of her broken teeth behind the torn lip. “I fail to see why or how I would choose a selfish, narcissistic bitch who would never love anyone but herself.”

  Rage boiled alongside her exhaustion, and Shade was surprised to find power sliding along her skin. It was warm and loving, and so out of context of where she was currently trapped. But it wasn’t nearly enough. She still couldn’t find the strength to get up.

  Shade knew her mother also sensed the new intrusion, and she turned and sniffed the air, obviously looking for the source.

  One second, she was standing in front of her, the next, a hurricane force wind blew her mother back the direction she’d come from. It hadn’t even moved a hair on Shade’s head.

  The silence that followed unnerved her a little, but the anticipation of waiting to see what would happen next was worse.

  A large beacon of light spun in a circle a few yards away, and each time it swept past her, she could hear the sounds of women weeping softly.

  “Come back to us.”

  “We’re waiting for you.”

  And just that quickly, between one heartbeat and the next, Shade recognized Sunny’s and Tiffany’s voices. More portions of her adult memory returned. Her love for her chosen sisters swelled in her heart, and a small spark of hope ignited.

  “I’m here,” Shade yelled. “Right here!” She attempted to stand, to look for their energy lines, to find her way back. She braced against the wall, but when she was halfway up, the beacon disappeared and she heard the double click of a shotgun being locked and loaded.

  Fire shot up from the ground.

  Shade froze, and the flames consumed her.

  *

  Raven stared at her mother. “What about the necromancer and the witch?”

  The question hung in the air for a few seconds. Finally, her mother answered. “Later. First, mija, ask your questions.”

  “All right. Why is Shade stuck on the astral plane and how did my dream tie into it?”

  “Spontaneous. It’s been known to happen when there is a strong connection between couples. It was your intention to meet with her. Your subtle body, your dream self, creates a reality like a movie set that you build with your beliefs and psyche.”

  “So, I created the river Shade was drowning in?”

  “Sí,” her mother said. “By your intention and longing to save her.” Her mother cleared her throat. “And because of the physical bond you share, you merged into her reality.”

  Raven didn’t feel the mortification she assumed she would when her mother acknowledged her sexual relations with Shade; she only wanted more information. “Yes, our realities combined, but she threw me out of it.”

  “It only seems so. The coma keeps her trapped between this world and the next.”

  “How do I help her, Mama?”

  “You can’t, mija. It’s her reality now. Shade must decide if she wants to return. It’s her own demons that keep her trapped.”

  Raven didn’t like that answer one little bit, as it continued to leave her feeling helpless. If knowledge was power, she wanted more.

  “I’m angry with Shade,” her mother said. “She didn’t come to me before knowing you intimately.”

  “Why on earth should she?” Raven’s defensiveness triggered. “I’m an adult now.”

  “Respect, mija. She should have stated her intentions.”

  “Mama, she does nothing but push me away.”

  Her mother blinked. “That’s not what I see, and I feel the pain she leaves you with. Had I known of it, I would have forbidden you to see her.”

  Raven was both angry and embarrassed, and the word slipped out before she considered the impact. “Whatever.”

  Instantly, her mother’s lips tightened into a line, and the worry lines in her forehead deepened.

  Raven was aware, and instantly regretted the petulance in her tone. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Mama. I don’t mean to.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened slightly, and Raven was once again reminded of the difficult child she must have been over the years. She’d never given much thought previously on how her words and attitude had affected her until this last week. “Por favor, tell me what you saw regarding the necromancer and the witch.”

  It was a long minute before her mother began talking. “It started with a vision of clouds in the crystal ball. They rolled violently with thunder and lightning for a long time, then the mist began to part, revealing a cold and dark place. A cave carved in rock, a fire in the middle of the space. Wolves howled in the distance, making my heart ache. A woman limped wearily out of the tunnel in the back of the cave and sat down to warm herself. Dark energy surrounded her, heavy and stagnant. I could feel her dilemma. It held her heart in a vice and burned her mind.

  “The necromancer faced the flames, while behind her I could see a young witch, inexperienced, but powerful. Impulsive, but full of fiery passion for life.”

  Raven hadn’t been aware she was holding her breath until her lungs burned, and she was forced to draw in a breath. Her mother’s voice was trancelike and quiet. She didn’t want to interrupt with any questions yet.

  “On the other side,” her mother continued, “was a seductive demoness, representing all the darkness the necromancer held inside. It was a time of choosing. She could no longer walk with a foot in each world.”

  The anticipation was killing Raven. She whispered, “What did she choose, Mama?”

  Her mother took her hand. “She chose the dark, mija.”

  “Oh.” Disappointed and hurt, Raven looked down at her blankets. “Oh.”

  “Then the witch followed the necromancer into the darkness with the demoness, and I watched the light of her soul extinguish, swallowed into the other realm.”

  Raven’s first impulse was to argue, to alter the vision her mother had had, so Raven could win in the end. But she didn’t. Instead, she spoke carefully, addressing her mother’s feelings. “That must have been terrifying for you.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with mija?”

  Raven shrugged. “Maybe I’m growing up.”

  “You will always be my beloved baby.”

  Raven didn’t want to give up just yet. “Can you tell me more please?”

  Her mother shook her head, but Raven felt the undercurrent of unsaid words, something her mother wasn’t willing to share. “I assumed, if I kept you two apart, I could prevent what I saw in my vision. Aura and I discussed the possibility of her version of the vision.”

  “That’s another thing,” Raven said. “Exactly how does Aura tie in to this?”

  “She called me after Shade came to see me years ago. She’d had the same precognition of events, but interpreted it with her own perception.”


  Raven still had a chance then. “But you wanted to protect me.”

  “Aura loves Shade. Of course she would predicate toward her best interest. As your mother, I wasn’t willing to take the chance, and nothing she could say would make me change my mind. I was determined to keep you two apart.”

  “Mama, you should have known better. The harder you pushed, the more I ran to do whatever it is you didn’t want me to.”

  The laugh lines around her mother’s eyes appeared. “Just like your father. You are the one most like him you know, the tiny image of him I looked into each day. He was so contrary.”

  Raven’s throat tightened. Her father had committed suicide when she was four. “I’m sorry for being the one who reminded you of him.”

  Her mother patted her hand. “No, never be sorry for that. Your father was the love of my life.”

  “But he chose to end his life.”

  The air in the room turned sad and bitter, and Raven saw the tears gathering in her mother’s eyes. She’d only seen her mother cry a handful of times in her life. “Mama?” Surprise turned to concern. “What haven’t you told me?”

  *

  With each step Shade took, she felt as if hours passed. The walk toward the light was unending, as she knew it would be.

  During the eternity, she struggled to put together the pieces of memory she could recover.

  Thanks to the visage of her mother, she recalled her childhood. Yay, Shade thought, she damn well could have done without that chunk. Those memories settled on her shoulders, a thousand pounds of resentment and betrayal, slowing her down even further.

  Abruptly, the light in the distance turned red and grew larger. Shade continued to plod on, exhausted, but determined to reach it. The tunnels weren’t safe, and although she hadn’t been attacked again, she was still acutely aware of the sounds and scrabbling noises within the walls.

  By the time she reached the source, she realized the light was coming from somewhere beyond a twist in the tunnel. Shade walked around the corner and saw yet another turn up ahead.

  It could be a trap, but at this point, she didn’t much care. She was going to reach her destination one way or another.

  The journey continued on with its creepy Gothic effects. Intermittently, she would hear the sound of wings beating in the air above her. She shut them out the best she could, trying not to imagine how large the creature must be to cause such a wind in her face.

  Icicles formed stalactites that dripped onto the spongy surfaces, and her breath was clearly visible as she folded her arms to tuck her hands under them.

  At last, she walked around the last twist and came upon a chamber in a cave, where a fire burned within a sunken circle framed by stones.

  Shade pushed herself the last twenty feet and sank gratefully beside it, holding her frozen fingers dangerously close to the flames to warm them.

  In her mind, memories shuffled like a deck of cards and fought themselves for their proper order, until those that didn’t make sense or fit flashed as insistently as a neon sign.

  Beating wings.

  Click. Fire. Pain.

  Pain. Click. Fire.

  Fire. Pain. Click.

  Like a skipping, scratched CD repeatedly playing a string of chords over and over again.

  Shade forced herself to quit trying. She should rest, as she had no idea what might happen next. She didn’t have much of a choice anyway, after the forever-walk.

  She’d depleted her last reserves, and reluctantly, she laid her head on her bended knees, hearing only the crackling sounds of branches on the fire.

  As her thoughts began to drift, she heard birds calling in the distance. They were so out of context, she knew they had to be a clue, but it didn’t stop her from sliding into sleep.

  *

  “You’re holding something back,” Raven said. “I know you think you’re protecting me, but I can handle it.”

  “Let me start at the beginning.” Her mother sighed heavily and pulled her hand away from Raven’s in order to cup her cheek. “But first, I want you to know, really know, that all of you were conceived in deep love.”

  Raven’s face tingled where her mother touched her, and she felt the energy of love between them swell. But along with it, was an underlying current of grief.

  Her mother’s.

  Raven didn’t remember much about her father, since she’d been a toddler when he’d died. Her brother, Hawk Jr., had been her father figure for most of her life. She realized, as she felt the depth of her mother’s pain, how blessed she’d been to be so young when he passed, she’d been spared the ache of missing him.

  They never talked about it. Her older siblings were as closed on the subject as her mother. When Raven would question the aunties they would smoothly change the subject.

  The weight of unspoken words hung between them. Raven recognized the moment as being monumental, certain to alter the way she perceived the world and her place in it.

  “It wasn’t the first time I’d had the vision,” her mother finally said.

  Chapter Six

  Raven walked into the hospital room and hesitated when she saw Sunny sitting next to the bed. She had only expected Tiffany to be present. She knew that Sunny was aware of her relationship with Shade, and although she knew it was absurd, Raven couldn’t seem to help being deeply jealous. Not the in-your-face-get-away-from-my-lover jealous, but because Shade had loved Sunny so much. Something Raven wanted for herself.

  “It’s okay,” Sunny said. “Jordan feels the same way.”

  Raven wanted a hole to open up right in the hospital floor so she could fall into it. She thought she’d put up excellent mind blocks this morning. It was discouraging. Why bother with it if Sunny and Tiffany could read through them? It was quite rude, actually.

  What if someone wore something hideous to the office and it made their butt look big? That could get her into big trouble if her inner voice couldn’t be stifled.

  Tiffany laughed, lowering Raven’s anxiety a bit, but when it subsided and trailed off, the room fell silent again.

  “So,” Sunny finally said. “I’ve brought something to see if it will bring Shade around.”

  “What?” Tiffany moved from her perch on the window seat.

  Sunny reached into her bag. “I’ve brought the documentary my father made. Jordan took it to a place that transfers VHS tapes into DVDs.”

  Raven knew the circumstances that brought the friends together in the past, but she’d never seen the movie itself. She was excited. They’d all been eleven years old, the same age she had been when she met Shade for the first time.

  “Do you really think it will work?” Tiffany asked. “God, I haven’t seen that in ages.”

  “Jordan found it in the attic when she was moving boxes around.”

  “Have you watched it yet?” Tiffany placed her hands on Shade’s legs and began to stroke them in long, smooth motions. Raven knew Tiffany was using Reiki to heal the muscles as best she could.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to,” Sunny said. “But I thought it might help her come home, give her an anchor somehow.”

  Raven held her hand out for the video. “Here, sit down. I can do it.”

  “Thank you.” Sunny touched her shoulder, and Raven felt her sincerity. There was no need for any hard feelings on either side, and for that, she was grateful. She inserted the disc and became engrossed when a distinguished man appeared on the screen.

  Raven heard Sunny’s sharp intake of breath as she saw her father. Her heart went out to her, but she had little to no memories of her own.

  The camera panned left and stopped on a young girl with a riot of blond curls who was jumping up and down. “I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it!”

  “You look exactly the same,” Raven said.

  “Thank you, but ssh.” Sunny hushed her.

  Raven dimmed her enthusiasm. Of course, it must be difficult for Sunny and Tiffany to see this. She could kick herself for seeming so
blasé about something that meant so much to them. Raven had to remember she wasn’t the center of this group of friends, the way she was with her own group. Sunny, Tiffany, and Shade were the primary trio, and as much as she hated it, she was still an outsider. She forced her shoulders to relax and turned her attention back to the screen.

  The scene cut to an outside view of a driveway, and Sunny was running down to an old sedan that just pulled in. A woman got out and walked past her and up toward the camera.

  “Oh,” Tiffany said. “That’s my aunt Darleen. She passed away not long after we filmed this. My mother didn’t want me to do this documentary, and my aunt lied and told her we were going to Portland for the weekend.”

  “Why?” Raven asked. “I mean, why would you have to lie about it?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Let’s watch,” Tiffany said.

  Little Sunny was leaning into the car, talking to someone who appeared to be reluctant to get out of the car.

  “I was painfully shy,” Tiffany said. “But God, the minute I saw Sunny, I felt connected. I may have been too young to articulate it then, but I knew there was something special about her.”

  Raven knew exactly what she meant. She’d felt it when she’d met Shade, but didn’t bring up the similarity.

  On the screen, a tiny red-haired girl finally got out of the car, holding Sunny’s hand. The audio wasn’t very good, and Raven had a hard time making out what they were saying. “What were you talking about?”

  “I think that’s when I saw her bi-colored eyes the first time.” Tiffany smiled. “She told me she was an empath and could see spirits. I’d told her I had place memory, the ability to see things by touch.”

  “Ssh,” Sunny said. “Here comes our Shade.” Her voice choked off at the end of her sentence.

  A large van that had clearly seen better days partially entered the camera’s viewfinder. The side door opened, and a tall, skinny girl jumped out with a cigarette in her hand.

  Raven noted the wrinkled, black clothes and the dark eyeliner that made her eyes look too large for her face. She looked haunted.