Broken Blue: The Complete Series

by Amy Cross

  "Of course," he says. "There will be more than enough time for things like that once all of this unpleasantness is over". It is rather sweet to observe the tenderness of Albert's manner tonight, as he clearly understands the depth of my despair. It must be so hard for him to have this happiest of days turned into a period of mourning, but he shows no sign of trying to hasten my recovery. He is a good man, and he knows that my uncle was a hugely important man in my life. I imagine that he also has a number of questions for me, since he knows that I was speaking to my uncle just moments before the gunshot was heard, but there will be time enough for such a discussion at a later date, and time for me to come up with a believable story. After all, I cannot possibly tell the people of Devil's Briar the truth; they will simply have to wait and, hopefully, be astonished when my uncle's work proves to be correct.

  "Tell me," I say after a moment, "is there any food in the kitchen? I feel rather hungry all of a sudden".

  "Absolutely, my darling," he says, clearly pleased that I am showing signs of returning to normality. "I shall fetch you a hearty meal". With that, he turns and hurries out of the room; I sit and listen to his footsteps running down the stairs, and then I turn to look out the window again. It is strange, but already Devil's Briar feels like a completely different place. It is as if my uncle's presence was a key part of the town, and his absence is now palpable in the air that we breathe. Listening to the still night, I imagine that gunshot firing over and over again, and I think of what it must have been like for my poor dear uncle to place the barrel of the revolver in his mouth and pull the trigger. I was offered the opportunity to view his body, of course, but I chose not to do so. I could not bear to see his face torn apart, and I prefer to remember him as he was in his prime. Although he was my uncle, I do not feel it would be inappropriate for me to acknowledge that he was a very handsome man.

  "Ms. Paternoster?" says a voice at the door.

  I turn to see Mr. Porter has come to see me.

  "No," I say. "I think it is Mrs. Caster now".

  "Of course," he continues. "I'm so sorry. I just came to let you know that the citizens have got together and asked me to come and express to you our profound sorrow regarding your uncle's death".

  "Thank you," I say, trying to remain polite.

  "They also wanted me to inform you that they will all be attending the funeral. In the short time he was here, your uncle became a very important part of our community. He will not be easily replaced".

  "I dare say," I reply.

  There's an awkward pause, before Mr. Porter turns and walks away. Once again, I am left alone, except I wonder if I am truly alone. Looking over at the lamp by the bed, I see that the candle by my bed has begun to flicker once again. I walk over and stare at it for a moment. It seems impossible that a candle could possibly relight itself, though I wonder if perhaps some other phenomenon could explain what happened. Although I did not see a flame still burning, it is possible that it remained extant deep within the wick, hidden from view but with just enough energy to eventually spring back to life.

  "Where are you?" I whisper again. It has been several hours since my uncle's death, and I await some sign that his theories have been proven to be correct. While I could certainly interpret the candle as some kind of sign, I feel that I must not be too hasty. If my uncle was right, there should be a much more powerful and persuasive signal. Even he admitted, though, that he could not be certain how the next few days would manifest, and it is certainly possible that things will take far longer than either of us anticipated. Perhaps it would be useful if I went over his notebooks, to see if I might learn something about the whole process.

  "My dear," Albert says, returning to the room, "I am afraid the food in the kitchen is all unsuitable. However, I feel certain that -"

  "Never mind," I reply. "I have lost my appetite again. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning, rather than forcing anything down".

  "If that is your wish," he says.

  "It is," I tell him, before walking over to my bed. "If you don't mind," I continue, "I was thinking that perhaps I should get some sleep. I long for this day to be over".

  "Of course," Albert says. "There is just one thing I should mention first, though".

  I turn to him. "What?"

  He pauses. "We are still in the hotel, my darling, and you indicated earlier that you would prefer to spend the night at our proper home".

  "Yes," I say, wondering how I could have forgotten. It is as if there is a fog in my mind. "Absolutely," I continue, walking over to join Albert at the door. "There is nothing I would like more than to come to your home and begin the process of settling in. I am so sorry, I suppose it was just habit to think I would be sleeping here".

  "We can stay at the hotel if you wish," Albert insists.

  "I wouldn't hear of it," I say firmly. "My place is at home with you, and that is where I shall be. My uncle would want, above all else, that I should spend less time mourning his passing and more time focusing on the future. He is dead, but we are not. Our lives go on, Albert". I smile, determined not to let recent events trouble me unduly. "The best way to honor my uncle would be for me to get on with the job of being a wife to you, and a mother to the children we shall one day bring into the world". I glance over at the candle for a moment. "If my uncle can see me now, I am sure he is in full agreement that this is the best approach".

  Saying nothing more, I take Albert's hand and we walk together out of the room, down the stairs and finally out of the hotel. It is a cold night, and Albert immediately removes his coat so that he can place it over my shoulders. As we make our way across the town square, I cannot help but glance up at the huge metal cross that my uncle installed shortly after we arrived in Devil's Briar. The locals all believe it to be a religious symbol, which of course is one of its roles; none of them suspect, though, that it has another purpose, and one that I can only hope is being fulfilled at this very moment. If there is to be any hope for my uncle at all, it is vitally important that the cross should function as specified in his notes. There is still plenty of time for him to be proven right, and I can only hope that soon everything will come together; if it does not, his life's work will be shown to have been a failure, and his death will have been in vain.

  Chapter Eight

  Today

  "Nobody move!" Ed says firmly as we stare at the cross. There's still a little smoke in the air, along with a lingering smell of sulfur.

  "What the hell just happened?" I ask, unable to stop staring at the base of the cross. It's almost as if I expect Lawrence to suddenly appear again, as if nothing's wrong, except I know that can't possibly happen. Still, there's no logical explanation for the fact that the man just disappeared in front of our eyes. Even if the cross gave off an electrical discharge, there'd undoubtedly be something left of Lawrence's body, and there'd certainly be scorch-marks on the ground. There's nothing, though. It's as if the man just vanished into thin air.

  "No-one goes anywhere near that thing," Ed says, glancing first at me and then at Dr. Cole. "You both understand me, right?"

  Dr. Cole nods, staring in shock at the cross.

  "I touched it," I say quietly, my mind spinning as I try to work out what's happening.

  "When?" Ed asks.

  "Last time I was here," I say. "I touched the cross a few times. So did Bill. Nothing happened".

  "Something happened this time," Ed replies, turning to Dr. Cole. "This is more your field than ours," he continues. "What kind of energy level would be required to vaporize a human body like that?"

  "It's not possible," Dr. Cole says. "Not in these circumstances, and not without leaving some kind of trace". He steps forward.

  "Keep back," Ed says, grabbing his shoulder.

  "Wait," I say, taking a couple of steps toward the cross. "It's okay. We just have to stay out of the circle". I point at the circle in the dirt, which seems to establish a small perimeter around the base. "Bill must have done this," I
say after a moment. "Bill must have realized the cross was dangerous, and he drew the circle in order to make sure no-one would go any closer".

  "Bill left a note," Ed says. "Why wouldn't he mention the cross in the note?"

  "Because his mind was in disarray," I reply. "He wasn't thinking straight. He clearly knew something was wrong, even if he couldn't quite explain it properly. Something must have happened that made him realize..." I pause for a moment. "Something must have happened that changed the cross. I swear to God, we touched it before and we were fine, but obviously something altered it. Maybe Bill found some kind of power source..." I sigh, realizing that right now I'm just grasping at straws. Still, looking down at the circle, I feel quite certain that Bill intended it to act as a warning for us. And then... did he disappear in the same manner as Lawrence?

  "I'm making an executive decision," Ed says. "As the de facto leader of this expedition, I'm pulling us out. This place is clearly dangerous".

  "What about Bill?" I ask, turning to him.

  "What about us?" he replies. "We have a duty to ensure that we're working in a safe environment, and that's something I can't guarantee right now. The insurance alone -"

  "Fuck the insurance," I say. "We have to find Bill!"

  "He's clearly dead!" Ed replies, raising his voice. "Either he wandered out into the forest and died, or he went the same way as Lawrence!" He pauses for a moment. "I'm sorry to be blunt, Paula, but you can't deny the evidence that's right in front of your eyes".

  "We don't know Lawrence is dead," I reply.

  "I think it's a pretty safe bet," Ed says, "unless you're pushing some other theory that you'd like to share with us?"

  I stare at him for a moment, and then at Dr. Cole, and I realize that whatever's going on at Devil's Briar, it's far beyond anything I understand or can explain. Before, the cross seemed like some kind of decorative item put in place by a highly religious settlement, but now it seems that it served a dual purpose. Whoever erected this damn thing, they were clearly working on some kind of project, and that project quite obviously had some serious consequences.

  "We have to get out of here," Ed continues. "Look at this logically, Paula. The place is a death trap. We can't be certain that anything is safe. There could be untold hazards all over the town, and we simply can't go wandering around and relying on pure luck to stay alive".

  "We have all the equipment we need," I reply firmly. "We can check everything. We can work out what this thing is!" Turning to look at the cross, I take a deep breath as I try to imagine what it must have been like for Bill to have been alone up here. He always had such an inquiring mind, but... Suddenly a cold shiver runs through my body as I realize that for the first time, I've started thinking about him in the past tense. It's as if I've somehow started to assume that he must have died. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to take in the gravity of this realization. I left Bill up here, and now he's dead. No matter what anyone says, that has to be at least partly my fault.

  "I agree with her," Dr. Cole says suddenly.

  Opening my eyes, I turn to him. "You do?"

  "We must proceed with caution," he says, "but there is no reason for us to turn and run. It's quite possible that whatever caused this incident will only be detectable for a fixed period of time. If we leave and come back, it might be too late. I'm not suggesting we do anything rash, but I think we can stay for a day or two. If we're putting this to a vote, I say we stay".

  "We're not putting this to a vote," Ed says, sounding a little irritated.

  "I'm staying too," I say.

  "Think about this, Paula," Ed replies with a sigh. "Just because you feel guilty about Bill -"

  "I do feel guilty about him," I say. "You're right. And I have to know what happened to him. When I was here before, this cross was just a big bit of metal. Now it's something else. If we come back again at some other time, it might be just a tower of metal again, and we'll never be able to find out what happened. Whatever's going on here, it's occurring right now, and we can at least get some equipment from the truck and see what we can find out".

  Ed pauses, and I can see I'm starting to wear him down.

  "We stay for a day or two," I continue, realizing the irony of the situation. I was so reluctant to come back here, and now I'm the one who wants us to stay. Then again, things have changed and it's clear that whatever's happening at Devil's Briar, it's way beyond anything we currently understand. "Besides," I add, "can you even be sure we'll ever find the place again? It seems like you couldn't locate the town for days, and then finally it was just... here. If we leave now, we might never be able to come back. As an academic, you must realize that we should get started as soon as possible".

  Ed stares at me for a moment, before turning and looking up at the cross. "We have to establish a perimeter around this thing," he says eventually. "Ten feet. No-one gets any closer. If I see so much as a fingertip crossing the ten-foot line, we're out of here immediately".

  "Deal," I say, turning to Dr. Cole. "Are you in?"

  "I'll start fetching the equipment from the truck," he says, turning and walking away.

  "I still don't think this is the smartest idea in the world," Ed says to me.

  "It's the only option," I reply, staring up at the top of the cross. "Whatever this thing is, it's taken Lawrence and it might have taken Bill. At the very least, I want to find out what it's for and how it does what it does. And maybe we can even..." I pause for a moment. "Maybe we can even get Bill back".

  Ed smiles. "Get him back? Paula, where exactly do you think he's gone?"

  "I don't know," I reply, aware that I must sound like I'm losing my mind. "Forget it. I just want to know what happened to him". I can't tell Ed the truth, though; I can't tell him that I'm starting to wonder if maybe there's a chance that Bill is still alive somewhere, and he's just lost. And if that's the case, then maybe there's some way to get him back.

  Epilogue

  "Victoria!"

  I ignore the voice.

  "Victoria!"

  Opening my eyes, I stare straight ahead and realize it didn't work: I'm still here. All morning, while the nurses got me dressed and prepared me for my uncle's arrival, I've been hoping that somehow I can make myself disappear. I've tried squeezing my eyes together as tight as possible, convinced that eventually I'll simply pop out of the world, but every time I open my eyes again I find that nothing has changed.

  "Victoria, will you stop standing around with your eyes closed all the time?" The nurse slaps me hard on the back. "If you're not careful, the wind will change and you'll be stuck like that forever. Is that what you want?"

  I take a deep breath, trying not to cry. I don't know why the nurses at the orphanage seem to hate me so much, but it's like they just want to order me about all day. I suppose in some ways it's good that I'm finally getting out of here. When my parents were killed in the fire, it looked for a while as if I'd have to spend my entire life in this terrible place. Finally, though, they were able to locate my uncle, and they arranged for him to come and pick me up. Any minute now, he'll walk through the door and take me away with him.

  "You must be well-behaved when you leave us," the nurse continues. "If you let the devil into your soul, Victoria, it will reflect badly upon us. You don't want that, do you?"

  Sighing, I squeeze my eyes tight shut again, hoping against hope that this time it'll work and I'll cease to exist. I imagine what it will be like for the nurse to look down and suddenly see me fade away to nothing. That'll teach them. I just want to be free from all of this trouble. Life is too hard.

  "Stop that!" the nurse shouts, slapping me again. I take a step to the side, momentarily shocked by the force with which she struck me. I pray to God that my uncle will be a little more gentle. My parents never used to hit me, but since coming to the orphanage I've been beaten almost every day. The nurses here believe that if they don't strike me regularly, the devil will be able to creep into my heart and roost in my soul. They te
ll me I should be grateful to them for taking the trouble to keep me innocent. They warn me that once I've left this place, I should beat myself regularly if I want to avoid becoming Satan's plaything.

  "Here he is," the nurse says, grabbing my hand and leading me over to the door. I see a tall, handsome, middle-aged man approaching, and suddenly my fears seem to evaporate. It's almost as if this man makes me feel safe and secure, merely by being in the room.

  "Well," says the man, smiling as he reaches us, "this must be my niece Victoria". He leans down and shakes my hand. "I am Thomas Paternoster, your uncle. I only wish we could have met under less tragic circumstances".

  I stare at him for a moment. My parents never mentioned an uncle when I was growing up. In fact, I'm pretty sure they told me that I had no uncles or aunts at all, but I suppose I might have made a mistake.

  "Say hello to your uncle," the nurse says firmly.

  "Hello," I say.

  "It's very good to meet you," he replies.

  "Will you be taking her directly to California?" the nurse asks.

  "I shall," he tells her. "Are there any papers for me to sign?"

  "None at all," she replies. "All the necessary authorization has already been completed. Before you leave, there is only one more thing that I must impress upon you. She is an energetic young girl, with a fierce temper. She is intelligent, but she sometimes fills her head with wild ideas. I would strongly advise you to ensure that she is properly disciplined at all times".

  "I shall," my uncle says. "I certainly shall". He turns to me. "Victoria, shall we get going?"

  I reach out to take his hand again, but this time I notice something strange about his fingers. "Why don't you have any fingernails?" I ask, looking up at him.

  He smiles. "I'm afraid that is a very long story," he tells me, "and one that is not easy to explain to anyone, especially a child".

  Cautiously, I take his hand and he leads me out of the orphanage. I glance over my shoulder and see the nurse watching as we leave, and my heart is filled with joy at the thought that at least I shall never again have to come to this place. I do not know what life will be like with my uncle, but I am quite certain that it will be an improvement over my recent fortunes. I hope he is a kind man, and that I can be happy in his care, and I feel confident that he won't hurt me. I know almost nothing about my uncle, but I am quite certain that nothing he does can ever be as bad as my life in the orphanage. Perhaps, finally, I shall once again have a home.