“Those aren’t demons. Those are imps. Gremlins at best. You want a real reason to drink yourself to death? Here you go. My dad raped me when I was a teenager. When I tried to get away by marrying the boy I loved, my father killed him and made me watch.”
The boy clammed up. Peg wasn’t sure if that was really what Alcoholics Anonymous taught as the best way to share your story, but Peg still wanted to applaud the way this tough old broad had shut the pretentious dickbag up.
Peg didn’t attend another meeting until many months later after she had started seeing Tony. Somewhere along the line she had seen that there was another way of living and that, against everything she had ever believed up to that point, she could actually be a part of that life. But not unless she fixed things. V had still been at the meetings at that point, and slowly their friendship had grown out of Peg’s admiration for the woman.
She’d been the maid of honor at Peg’s wedding, the only woman who had stood up with her even though Tony had had both a best man and an additional groomsman. The empty bridesmaid spot, it was agreed on, belonged to Zoey. Peg only remembered that just now. She would have to make sure Zoey knew that when she woke up.
Peg plopped down on the couch next to V. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Begin wherever you need to.”
“It’s… look, you’ve got to remember your promise. You can’t tell anyone. I’m trusting you here.”
V took Peg’s hand. “Hey, when was the last time I let you down?”
Peg gave a half-hearted smile. “Never.”
“Okay then. Whatever you’ve got, the secret doesn’t go past me.”
“Alright.” Peg paused, trying to find the right words. “It’s Zoey.”
“Shit,” V said. “Did the police finally find something out?”
“No, it’s… dear God, I’m still not even feeling like any of this could possibly be real. V, she’s in my basement.”
V nodded. It took her a few seconds before her eyebrows furrowed and she turned to look Peg in the eye.
“Wait, what?”
“Zoey is down in my basement right now. I swear to God this isn’t a joke. I’d introduce you, but she’s sleeping and I get the impression that she really needs the rest.”
“Zoey as in your sister Zoey? The one who’s supposed to be dead?”
Peg tried not to visibly wince at that. She’d never had reason before to wonder at the many different levels of “dead.” Dead was just supposed to be dead. Zoey, on the other hand, didn’t seem to fit into a classic category. Peg hadn’t bothered to check if she had a heartbeat, although at least she seemed to breathe. Beyond that, Peg really wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think she wanted to lay that particular bomb down yet for V. This would all be hard enough to believe as it was.
“She’s not dead. But she’s…” She’s got a bellyful of blood she sucked out of raw meat. “…she’s different. Like, damaged.”
Peg gave her a very carefully edited version of the day’s events. She neglected to mention the lock, Zoey’s request for the windows, and the meat. She left in the detail about the teeth, if only because that was something she wouldn’t be able to hide if or when she finally saw Zoey, although she implied that she thought it was tooth damage from various abuses rather than intentionally sharp fangs, and she was very selective about which of Zoey’s ramblings she shared. Having thought about it while she’d waited for V, she’d realized that most of the incoherent babble probably actually meant something, and if she finally got Zoey to translate any of it she was certain it would point to some other supernatural forces involved. After all, Zoey hadn’t just become this way by force of bad luck. Someone or something had changed her, and it was a good bet that this something was the person she was so afraid of.
V listened to the whole story, only talking once or twice to clarify various points. When Peg was done V stared down at her hands for many seconds before looking Peg in the eye again.
“Holy shit,” V said.
“Actually, I think what you mean is holy fucking shit.”
“That too. Jesus Christ.” She picked up the pot pipe again, giving it a new look that implied she was seriously thinking about using it. “And you’re going to do what she asks? No cops?”
“For now. I don’t know. If I start to think that somehow Brendan or Tony might be in danger because of this I’ll be on that phone faster than a fly on shit, but if Zoey has a reason to think it’s a bad idea to call them I’ll just have to trust her judgment. Fuck, for all I know the guy that took her is a cop.”
“Cops wouldn’t do shit anyway. I know people keep saying it’s a different world from when my daddy did what he did to me, but I sure as hell don’t see it. The pigs didn’t do anything to help me back then, they won’t do much more to help you now.” She set the pipe down. “You do realize this is dangerous, though. You still don’t know what kind of guy this was that did this to her.”
“Trust me, I understand,” Peg said. Even before Peg had realized there was something supernatural involved she had already been aware of that. Zoey’s disappearance had been similar to others that had happened throughout the state, and among certain circles Wisconsin had a reputation. This was, after all, the home sweet home of such luminaries as Ed Gein and Jeffrey Dahmer. It had not been hard at all to imagine yet another of their kind as the culprit.
“And she didn’t tell you anything at all about this guy?”
“Maybe she did and I just couldn’t put it together through all her babble. I don’t even know for sure that it’s a guy.”
“Well it sure as fuck wouldn’t be a woman doing that sort of thing, so what else could it be?”
What else indeed, Peg thought.
“There has to be more to go on,” V said. “What about the police?”
“I thought you said fuck them?” Peg asked.
“I did. But once in a while they get something right. Especially when it’s not locals that started out their lives as dumb high school jocks with C averages. I mean like the higher up types, FBI and all that. Didn’t you tell me at some point that they were involved in the investigation when she first disappeared?”
“Yeah, they were. They started treating it like a federal case when they saw some similarities to a disappearance in Illinois.”
“So what did they find? They had to do a profile or something like that, right?”
“I… I guess. I thought maybe I heard one of them tell my mother that there wasn’t much evidence to put a profile together, but… you know, I honestly don’t know anything beyond that.”
“How the hell could you not know?” V asked.
“Because by then I made it a point to not know much of anything, remember? I knew liquor labels and condom brands, where to find the occasional dealer, and the proper way to sterilize a razor before I used it on myself. That’s pretty much the extent of my memories from that time.”
V nodded, sat back on the couch, and thought for awhile. “Well,” V finally said. “Who would know what the feds were thinking then? Your mom and your dad?”
“Oh God. V, no. There’s no way that…”
“Don’t throw the idea out just yet. Think about it. I mean, have you even told them yet that Zoey is alive?”
“No. Actually, I don’t think I even really considered it.”
“That’s fucked up. Don’t you think they’d want to know?”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what? This is their daughter and she’s alive. Yes, I get that there’s still this huge rift between all three of you. But that rift stemmed from the fact that every one of you believed Zoey was dead. Am I right?”
Peg would have classified it as a little more complicated than that, but when the issue was boiled down to its essence she supposed that wasn’t altogether wrong.
“Maybe,” Peg said. She didn’t want to look in V’s eyes and show the woman just how much she hated the idea of getting back in touch with her parents for any rea
son. V was probably smart enough to figure it out anyway, but she didn’t call Peg on it.
“Let me ask you something,” V said. “Has Zoey said anything to you about keeping this from the rest of your family?”
“No.”
“And if she said she did want to see them, would you take her to them?”
Peg didn’t answer. She honestly wasn’t sure of the answer.
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. Listen Peg. I know that you still blame yourself for what happened to her. I’ve listened to you tell that story over and over again and I don’t know where the fuck you really think you could have done something different. To still be blaming yourself, it honestly sounds like you still have that humongous ego that you think you’ve gotten rid of. Because saying that you were at fault would mean you’d have to be in control of things that even God won’t touch.”
“I don’t still blame myself.”
“Deep inside you still do, and you probably always will. But if you really want to repent for all those make-believe sins you accuse yourself of, then you need to think first right now of everyone else around you and not yourself. Think of what your sister needs. Think really long and hard. And then do that, whatever it is. Even if that means swallowing your damned pride and talking to that vicious harpy bitch you call your mother.”
“Sometimes I deeply hate talking to you,” Peg said.
“That’s because you hate being wrong. But that’s just the burden you’ve got to bear around me, because I’m always right.”
Peg smiled. “Bitch.”
“Whore.”
“Mommy?” Brendan called from upstairs. “Can I haff a gookie?”
“Just a second, honey. I’ll be right up.” Peg stood and gathered up her pot paraphernalia. Tony would be home very shortly now and he didn’t like this stuff lying around in the open. “You going to stick around for a while?” she asked V.
“Norm will be expecting me home soon, but I can stick around if you still need me.”
“No, that’s okay. I think I’ve got a better handle on things. I’ll be alright.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell Tony about all this?”
“No, I’m not sure. All it’s going to take is for him to be poking around in the wrong part of the basement at the wrong time. But until I get something better to work on from Zoey about keeping mum with the cops, I don’t think he’d handle any of this.”
“Your secret’s safe here. But I expect to meet your sister at some point, you know.”
“You work tomorrow?” Peg asked.
“Third shift.”
“I’m calling in. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to work like this. Come by around ten o’clock or so. You can meet her and we can all come up with what’s next.”
“Not a problem,” V said. She stood up to go and gave Peg a massive bear hug. “You know, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight thinking about all this.”
You don’t know the half of it, Peg thought.
Chapter Eight
Aside from the time she’d had to sit in a police interrogation room as she waited for them to come in and question her about Zoey’s disappearance, dinner that night was the tensest moment in her life. Dinner itself was pretty much normal. Although she’d planned on making chicken for supper all the events of the day kept her from coming even close to an oven and she ordered Chinese instead. She’d made the call right after V left, then had a stroke of genius and turned the oven on, grabbed a pinch of shredded cheese from a bag in the fridge, and threw it in. Tony came home to an acrid stench of smoke that both covered up what lingering smell Zoey had left behind and, with a quick story from Peg about spilling dinner in the oven when she’d tried to take it out, explained why she didn’t have it ready.
But all the time she was sitting there at the dining room table eating, making small talk with Tony, watching to be sure that Brendan was eating his food and not doing his current favorite game of trying to quietly dump food under the table for the dog (not that they actually had a dog, but he’d seen it on some commercial and now thought it was the most amusing thing possible) she was aware of what was sitting right below them in the basement. No, not what. Who. She caught herself thinking that wrong word several times and she hated herself for it. Zoey was not a what. It didn’t matter at all what had happened to her. She would always be…
A vampire, Peg thought.
Peg dropped her fork, which bounced off her plate and sent a few lo mein noodles flying to the floor.
“Are you okay?” Tony asked.
“Fine,” Peg said. She wasn’t, of course. Even though the V word had been at the edge of her mind all day long, this was the first time she’d let it come to the surface and now it hung like a neon sign over all her other thoughts. Come see the amazing vampire sister! In town for one night only! After that she’s going to eat your entire family and disappear into the night!
“Peg, come on. I know you better than that. What’s really going on?”
“It’s just… Brendan, no! Just because Mommy’s dropping food on the floor doesn’t mean you can too.”
“Is it the dinner thing? Honestly it’s not that big of a deal.”
“No, that’s not…” She took a moment to get her fork off the floor and clean up the mess that Brendan had made. “If you keep that up Brendan you are not going to get any more cookies for desert.” She wiped up his mess with a napkin, but it took an inordinate amount of willpower to not just stop right there and curl up on the floor. Being a family woman was a hard enough job on a regular basis. Taking care of all these minor crises while a major one was brewing secretly literally below everyone’s noses was already proving more taxing than she thought she could handle.
Bullshit. You’ve handled a lot worse than this, she thought. You’ve also lied a whole lot better than this. So why don’t you start flexing some of those old atrophied muscles a bit, huh?
“It’s about Zoey,” Peg said. Oh, this ought to be rich. I can’t wait to hear this, the voice in her head challenged. Sometimes she really had to wonder if she was schizophrenic.
“Zoey?” Tony couldn’t have sounded more surprised if she had said she had decided to invest all their money in Nevada shrimp farms. His next words, however, were spoken with a great amount of care. Peg hadn’t openly talked with him about Zoey in a very long time, and he knew very well what a sensitive subject it was. “Has there been something new in her case maybe?”
Ooh, good idea. Thanks Tony. Way to do all my work for me, she thought, although she hated the snarky tone in her head. She instantly came up with something that she knew would work perfectly and she was a little upset with herself for being able to pull him along so easily. She was also a little proud, whether she wanted to be or not. After all, she’d learned long ago that the best lies were the ones that had a strand of truth in them, and it felt strangely comforting to use those skills again.
“Yes,” Peg said. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes, instead focusing on her half-eaten plate of food. She knew, though, that it would look less like she was keeping something from him and more like she was uncomfortable with the subject. Which of course she was, albeit for completely different reasons than he thought. “I got a call from my mother.” She looked up just enough to see his reaction. That appeared to startle him even more than the idea that there had been news about Zoey. And it should, too. Anita Sellnow had not called her remaining daughter in the entire time they’d been married. The woman hadn’t even attended their wedding.
“What did she say?” Tony asked. Brendan, apparently realizing that his parents were in a very intense conversation that had nothing at all to do with him, slid out of his chair in what must have seemed to his young mind to be a very stealthy fashion. Peg knew she should probably make him get back in his chair and finish his dinner, but he ran off into the living room to play before either of them could say anything. That was probably for the best, considering the na
ture of the lie she was spinning.
“That the police had called her,” Peg said. “They’ve connected some other disappearances over the past couple years with Zoey’s. They think whoever did this might still be active.” Maybe that wasn’t even a lie. It certainly seemed probable, especially considering what Peg now knew or suspected.
“But no solid leads?” Peg wasn’t sure whether he sounded more upset or relieved. She couldn’t blame him if it was the latter. He probably had visions of the one time he’d seen her rip roaring drunk. It had been on the anniversary of Zoey’s disappearance just a couple weeks after they’d started seeing each other. While Peg had no memory of that night, Tony had told her later that’d he’d found her sobbing and babbling on the front stoop of his apartment, an empty vodka bottle in one hand, an exacto knife in the other, her dinner in a greenish-brown puddle in front of her, and the sleeves of her t-shirt stained with her own blood. She only remembered waking up the next morning on his couch, her arms inexpertly but thoroughly bandaged and one of his own shirts on instead of her own. The blood still soaked through on her shoulders from cuts that were deeper than she usually went.
Tony wasn’t the first person to see her like this, but he was the first that had done anything to indicate he cared. That was the morning she resolved to give AA another try, because if there was someone like Tony who was willing to help her despite what a mess she’d made of her life then she didn’t want to end up pushing him so far that he couldn’t do it anymore.
“No, nothing,” Peg said. “It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just, you know, bringing up things I’d rather forget.”
“You’ll talk to me if you need to, right?” Tony asked. “Or V? Just talk to someone.”
“I’ll be fine,” Peg said. The next words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to realize how much she would regret them. “I just have to call my mom back after dinner.”
Blood Harvest (Book 1): Blood Fruit Page 6
