Lies of the Prophet

by Ike Hamill

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Farah.

  “Come on over to our tent,” said Bert.

  He waved her forward with his flashlight and Farah led the way with her lantern. Carol felt awkward. The two cemetery campers kept their distance. Farah ducked inside the tent and didn’t hold open the flap for her. Bert waited several paces back.

  “Do you have something to wipe off my feet or something?” asked Carol.

  Farah’s arm came out from the tent, holding a dirty rag. Carol did her best to leave the dirt outside. She handed the towel back in through the flap.

  “Come on in,” said Farah.

  “Oh man, you’re not supposed to invite her in,” said Bert. “Now we won’t be able to tell if she’s…”

  “I told you, she’s not a vampire,” said Farah. “Just quit with that. It’s not hospitable.”

  “Just covering our bases,” said Bert.

  Carol stepped inside. The tent looked a lot bigger inside than she expected. It was divided into three compartments. The couple had a short table in the main compartment, with a plastic flower arrangement centerpiece. Carol pulled up a flat cushion and sat down at the table. Farah hung the lantern from a hook in the center of the roof and zipped open a side compartment and ducked through the flap.

  Bert took a seat at the table.

  “You like sardines?” asked Farah.

  “Actually,” said Carol. “Do you have anything else? I’ve been eating nothing but cold snake for as long as I can remember.”

  Farah’s face appeared back through the flap—“Snake? Binding food,” she said to Bert. “No Passage.”

  “Who me?” asked Carol. “No, I’m not The Passage. I’ve never even been dead. Is that what you thought?”

  “She did,” said Bert. “Not me. I know what you are." His hand came up from under the table. He reached forward and pressed a crucifix to her arm. When she didn’t react, he pulled it away and stared at the tiny cross.

  “Jeez, dummy,” Farah scolded Bert. “I keep telling you—she’s not a vampire. She’s been bound by something. They’ve been feeding her cold snake? Ring any bells?”

  “Who, Ronnie?” asked Bert.

  “Yes. Ronnie,” said Farah. She ducked back into the side room but kept talking—“Cheese and crackers good enough then?”

  “Perfect,” said Carol. “I’m so hungry for actual food.”

  “No problem,” said Farah. She came back with a long block of cheese and two sleeves of crackers. “My cousin Ronnie was bound to this voodoo lady he met down south. She did the same thing to him—made him eat cold snake and chant shit. It was all a glamor though. Wore right off as soon as he got some good food and time away from her. Sometimes the bind is way more powerful than that. It depends on the experience of the person doing it. How did you break the bind?”

  “I don’t know really,” said Carol. She took several slices of cheese and a big stack of crackers. As she stuffed her mouth, she managed to get out a few sentences—“I was digging, and digging. Then I just started remembering things. Little flashes of real life. That woke me up, I think.”

  “You’re really lucky,” said Farah. “A lot of people don’t get unbound until they get really badly hurt or the person who bind them gets killed. Sometimes the binder dies before he has released the people. If he’s a good one then you can get stuck that way. You’re really lucky.”

  “My neighbor,” said Carol. “He was there. I recognized him. He was also aware of what was going on.”

  “Did he break the bind too? Did he get away?” asked Bert. He pulled some crackers from one of the sleeves and started to nibble on one.

  “He did,” said Carol. She lied—“We split up.”

  “How long were you there?” asked Farah.

  “No idea,” said Carol. “What’s the date today?”

  Bert shrugged. Farah looked up and away—“Fourteenth.”

  “Holy shit,” said Carol. “Seriously? It’s been weeks then." She stuffed cheese into her mouth and followed it with crackers. Carol took little sips of the water offered, she didn’t want to fill up with fluid while there was food available. When Farah and Bert got into a conversation about who would go to the laundromat in the morning, Carol slipped cheese slices into her shirt pocket.

  “You guys have been really nice, but I need to keep moving. I don’t want those things to catch up with me,” said Carol.

  “That’s the last thing you should do,” said Farah. “You need to stay here.”

  “Oh, thanks, but I need to go. They might be on my scent already,” said Carol.

  “No, but that’s just it,” said Farah. “They wont walk on hallowed ground. You should hang out here until morning. It’s just a few hours and then you’ll be safe to move. They can’t hunt you in the day time.”

  “Really?” Carol asked. “Is that true?”

  “Oh yeah, seriously,” Farah said. Farah looked to Bert to confirm her statement, but the bearded man just looked back at her with his eyebrows raised. It looked to be new information for him as well. “You remember. Right, Bert? Remember what Ronnie was saying?”

  “I remember something,” said Bert. “I don’t think it was about daytime though. Are you sure?”

  Farah set her mouth to a hard line and then relaxed into a smile before turning back to Carol. “He doesn’t remember, but I’m sure. You’ll be safe here, in the graveyard. We’ll make you a spot to sleep here in the corner. Then you can take off in the morning and you can move around with no problem. You can borrow my little alarm clock so you can leave first thing. The sun will be up in four hours." Farah fetched the device. Carol looked from it to the young woman, trying to decide what to do. She was too tired to run effectively, and it did feel safer to be among people.

  Her aching muscles made the decision. She needed sleep.

  “Okay,” said Carol. “As long as you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

  “It’s fine, really,” said Farah.

  “Thank you.”

  Bert and Farah set up an extra sleeping bag for Carol. She had a stuffed laundry bag for a pillow and she curled up facing the tent flap. Her eyes fluttered shut immediately. She pulled her arms to her chest, clutching the cheese in her shirt pocket. Farah was whispering to Bert, but Carol didn’t care. She gladly traded the risks for the promise of sleep—natural sleep—without a spell holding her under.

  Carol dreamt of snakes and mice and holes in the ground. In her dream she used the sharp end of her shovel to chop the heads off the snakes that chased her around the pit, but they kept coming. Snakes appeared from every crack and crevice in the walls of her dirt prison. Mice scurried over her bare feet and dropped down from the lip above, getting tangled in her hair. She woke up several times from these vivid dreams and relief washed over her when she realized that none of it was real.

  Morning’s first light made the walls of the tent glow when she woke up next. Shadows moved. Carol cut her eyes over to the next compartment and confirmed that her hosts had left. She listened to them talking, just outside the walls of the tent.

  Farah unzipped the flap, and Carol sat up. Bert hunched over and carried something into the tent. He laid his small parcel down on the table and kicked off his slippers. They were covered in wet grass. Farah came in next. She wiped off her bare feet with a towel and then knelt down next to the table.

  Carol crawled from her sleeping bag and got to her knees so she could see what they were doing. Bert pulled the corners of the blanket away, revealing the contents of his prize.

  “Perfect,” said Farah. “He’s perfect.”

  Carol sucked in a hitching breath and backed away. The blanket on the table was wrapped around the evil little boy. She’d last seen him beating Jeremy for not working fast enough, and before that, he’d been the one who’d made her eat the cold snakes. He was dead or asleep, she couldn’t tell, but she backed away until she ran into the tent. The whole tent shook as Carol trembled.

  “Why did you bring
him here?” asked Carol. “You’re working for them?”

  “No. No way,” said Bert. “We caught him is all. He’s not human. See? Check it out." Bert pulled back the blanket further—the little boy was nude, but he lacked body features. He had no nipples, navel, or genitals.

  “What is it?” asked Carol.

  “He was tracking you,” said Farah. “We caught him and knocked him out. It was easy catching him, but not so easy knocking him out. He almost bit me.“

  “Another vampire,” said Bert.

  “No,” said Farah. She tilted her head back and sighed. “There was no first vampire, and he’s not one either. He’s like a demon or something, but there’s no vampires.”

  “Why would a demon be a child?” asked Carol. “And what happens if he wakes up?”

  “Good point,” said Farah. “Let’s tie him up.”

  She and Bert flipped him over and used rope to pull together the boy’s wrists and ankles. Farah made a loop around the boy’s neck and connected it to his ankles, so that if he pulled too hard, he would choke himself with the noose.

  “But you said they wouldn’t be able to get me in a cemetery,” said Carol.

  Bert shrugged. Farah didn’t make any excuses.

  “You wanted to catch him, didn’t you?” asked Carol.

  “He was coming after you,” said Bert. “We were just protecting you.”

  “You were protecting me after you’d already put me at risk by lying. Why did you do it?” Carol demanded.

  “Look, we weren’t going to let anything happen,” said Farah. “But we kinda needed something inhuman to help us here. We haven’t been getting anywhere. This thing could be just what we need to get it going.”

  “Get what going?”

  “We’re trying to get our friend to The Passage,” said Farah. “She’s buried right next to here, but she’s not waking up.”

  “What’s he got to do with it?” Carol asked, pointing at the boy. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t even want to know.”

  “He might not keep well in the daytime,” said Bert. “You know how vampires are with sunlight.”

  “He’s not a vampire, you idiot,” yelled Farah.

  “No, I know, I know, it’s just I was thinking that some things can’t be around daylight. That concept has to come from some where, you know? Maybe this thing, whatever this thing is can’t be in sunlight either?”

  “Yeah, okay, we’ll figure something out,” said Farah.

  “You know,” said Bert, “I was thinking. Why can’t we just try to make some money off of him. He’s clearly not human. We could probably sell him to researchers or some rich guy or something. I mean he’s got to be just as rare as The Passage, right? Shouldn’t we just do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Farah hedged. “You’ve got a point." She regarded the naked form, bound on their little table.

  “You guys didn’t see anything else out there, did you?” asked Carol. “Nothing else with the kid? Maybe a really big, stupid-looking guy?”

  “Nope, just him,” said Bert.

  “Do you have any shoes or money I could borrow? I’ll get it right back to you as soon as I get home,” said Carol.

  “Do we look like we have any extra anything?” asked Farah. “Look, we gave you food and a place to sleep, and we got this thing. Fair trade, now get lost.”

  “What about a cell phone? Can I make a call or something?”

  “We don’t have those things. That’s how they track you, dumb ass,” said Farah.

  “Okay, thanks again,” said Carol.

  She ducked out of the tent and surveyed the early morning while Bert and Farah argued inside about what to do with the boy. Carol had been uncomfortable being that close to him, even with him unconscious and bound. Or perhaps her uneasiness had come from how easily he had tracked her down after her escape on foot and by cab. Where could she hide if they knew where she lived and could follow as she ran?

  Carol started walking. She headed towards the center aisle, where the paths between the graves joined together and formed a gravel path. Her bare feet were tough with weeks of abuse—she hardly noticed the jagged stones. Other campers milled around near the top of the hill. Some returned to their sites after having snuck away into the woods to relieve themselves. Others brought fresh morning supplies back from cars parked in the common lot. Carol thought about trying to beg some assistance, or trying to convince some of the other campers for a small loan, but she decided against it. They all looked too threadbare to have any extra assets, and she herself looked too messy to be trustworthy. She couldn’t imagine that she’d inspire their sympathy. The people who moved around the dawn cemetery wore the depth of their experience on their faces.

  She found the back entrance of the graveyard and moved down the hill into much dirtier suburb than she’d seen the night before. This side of the hill had more fences, weeds, cars in the yards, and empty houses. Carol picked up her pace when she saw a convenience store at a flashing light ahead. The sidewalk sparkled with broken glass, but Carol didn’t notice it until it was too late. When she reached the pay phone she was hopping on one foot and pulling a shard out of her other heel.

  She called the only person she could think to call.

  Her sister Melanie accepted the charges and the call went through.

  “Is this really you?” she asked instead of saying hello. “What number is this?”

  “I’m on a pay phone in Auburn, I think,” said Carol. “I really need your help,” she said before Melanie could think of something insulting to say.

  “You must,” said Melanie. “I can’t imagine you lowering yourself to actually call me otherwise.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I’ll say anything you want. I’m desperate. I’m not going to make it without some help.”

  “Yeah, well excuse me for not running to your side after you haven’t talked to me for a year. I never did anything but try to help you, and you never did anything but act superior and self-righteous,” said Melanie.

  Carol suppressed the urge to scream at her sister. She never understood Melanie’s lack of empathy. It always had to be about Melanie. When they were teenagers and finally emancipated from an abusive stepfather, Melanie complained about her travails to Carol, as if she alone had suffered the indignity.

  “I’m sorry, I really am,” said Carol. She didn’t feel sorry; she felt angry. “I don’t know what else to say. I can’t tell you how much I need you right now. I think I might die otherwise.”

  “Seriously?” asked Melanie.

  Carol knew this move too. It wasn’t that Melanie had genuine concern for her sister, she just grew excited at the prospect of becoming a grieving sister. She could wear that for six months or more.

  “Yeah, seriously. You’d really be bailing me out if you could only help me now,” said Carol.

  “What do you need?” asked Melanie.

  This was encouraging—Melanie was already shifting her mind from the inconvenience of the situation to how she would portray it when she talked it around.

  “I need some shoes, a little money, and a ride. I think I’m in Auburn,” said Carol.

  “You said that. Wait, you think you’re in Auburn? Why don’t you know?” asked Melanie.

  “I don’t know. I’ll find out. Can you call me back at this number in like fifteen minutes? That will give me time to figure out exactly where I am,” said Carol.

  “What kind of trouble are you in?” asked Melanie.

  “It’s such a long story,” said Carol. “I’ll tell you in person. Don’t forget shoes, and if you have a t-shirt and sweatpants or something. That would be really helpful.”

  “Shoes, I’m not sure about. You know how wide your feet got during your pregnancy. You probably couldn’t fit into anything I’ve got.”

  “I’ll take anything,” said Carol. “Even some slippers or something. Doesn’t matter." Carol read the street names from the intersection and gave them to Melanie.<
br />
  “Okay, I’ll start heading towards Auburn,” said Melanie.

  “And call me in fifteen minutes?”

  “Sure thing.”

  SHE WAS SITTING ON THE CURB when Melanie arrived. Carol had removed a little of Jeremy’s blood from her top by rubbing it on some wet grass in the alley. She hadn’t counted on how cold the wet shirt would be to wear. When Melanie pulled up, Carol was a little cleaner, but shivering. She opened the door and stepped in to her sister’s car.

  “You never called,” said Carol.

  “You didn’t call me either,” said Melanie.

  “I didn’t know your cell phone,” said Carol. “I could only remember your home phone, and nobody is picking up there.”

  “Well of course not, I was coming to get you,” said Melanie.

  “But it’s been two hours,” said Carol. “I’ve been freezing here. How did you even find me here?”

  “It’s such a nice morning,” said Melanie. “And you woke me up at dawn. I had to find someone to watch Bunny and I had to get ready. It’s not like I’m prepared to run out of the house at a moment’s notice. My god, what happened to your clothes.”

  “It’s a long story. Can you just get us moving? I don’t want to stick around here a moment longer,” said Carol. “How did you even find me here? I just said I thought I was in Auburn. What if I’d been wrong?”

  “I put the streets into the GPS and it told me exactly where to go. If you hadn’t been here, I would have called. Look, I made it, didn’t I?” asked Melanie. She pulled away from the curb.

  “Did you bring me some shoes and socks or something?” asked Carol.

  “No, but there’s some stuff in the back,” said Melanie.

  “Great,” said Carol. “Thanks a ton. Oh good, gloves. Should I put them on my feet.”

  “I thought you said you were cold,” said Melanie. “And there’s flip flops back there.”

  “Close enough, thanks,” said Carol.

  “You’ve really lost control of your life since Don died. You’re a mother. You need to put Donna’s needs above your own. Like me, this morning. Before I even thought of coming to find you I tracked down someone to care for Bunny. You see, I put her needs in front of my own. Who’s watching Donna right now?”