Grace Lost (The Grace Series)

by Lewis, M. Lauryl

  “I think a gun is overkill, pardon the pun,” I said through fresh tears.

  “I’ll do it, Zoe. I’ll make it quick.”

  “Please hurry, Boggs? Send him to be with his mom and dad?”

  He nodded. I left the room and went to sit with Susan. I got to our doorway. I never heard anything, but knew it was over when the spark in my mind died. I hoped I’d never come to learn how Boggs had gone about it.

  I took a deep breath, and walked into our room. Susan was sitting on the bed, her back resting on our headboard.

  She looked up at me, her face illuminated by the glow of a single candle.

  “It’s over,” I said. “They’re all together now. A family of three.”

  “Can I stay in here tonight?” asked the other woman through her tears.

  I nodded. “Of course.” I couldn’t send her to be alone downstairs or expect her to return to her room where the corpses of our friend and her baby remained.

  I walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. “Why don’t you climb under the covers? Try to sleep.”

  She nodded. “Ok.”

  I tucked the woman in. “I need to use the bathroom for a little while, Susan. I’ll be back in awhile.”

  She nodded. “Zoe?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thanks for being nice to me.”

  I smiled at her, but didn’t put much effort into making it seem sincere.

  I walked alone to the bathroom, where I intended to draw a hot bath and try to soak many layers of evil off of myself. I was filthy. I lit a large candle that we kept on the counter. I studied myself in the mirror. My clothes were mucky from our trek through the woods. I wasn’t sure if the blood smeared on my arm was from Louisa, the faceless little girl in pigtails, or something I wasn’t even aware of. Dirt was smeared on my face. I took my clothes off and piled them near the sink. I walked to the claw foot tub and started the water. Once it was warm, I put the stopper in the drain and climbed in. I sat upright and drew my legs up, curling into a ball. I cried openly, hoping the sound of the water running would drown out my sobs. I wanted to be alone. I ached from head to toe, inside and out. I was tired of living in a Hell on Earth and tired of losing friends. I was tired of being afraid day and night. The tub eventually filled and I shut the water off. I let myself slip under the water and hoped to soak my troubles away. I came up for air and let myself just lay there with my eyes closed.

  I was only aware of the passage of time by the water cooling. I drained the bath and got out. Chilled, I wrapped in one of the last towels in the closet. The house was quiet. I tiptoed back across the hall to our room and slipped inside quietly. I could hear Boggs snoring softly and saw that he was lying on the bed beside Susan. He was on top of the covers, so I figured it was fine. I was too exhausted to worry about worrying.

  I rummaged through the armoire and put on an undershirt and a new pair of men’s boxers. With nowhere to lie down, I opted to move downstairs and sit by the fire. I crept back out of the room, careful to be quiet so as to not wake up Boggs or Susan.

  Once back in the dark hall, I used my hand to guide my way, feeling the wall. As I passed Gus and Emilie’s room I could hear them making love. It sounded almost violent, and I assumed it was their way of coping with their grief and recent separation. I could hear Emilie crying gently as Gus grunted and groaned. I didn’t imagine he’d be the type to hurt the woman he loves, so I left well enough alone and let them be.

  I treaded lightly on the stairs and walked to the living room. I took my time crossing to where the fireplace should be, avoiding bumping into furniture in the pitch black. I finally got to the fireplace, which I found with an outstretched hand. I fumbled for the ignite button and pressed it. There had always been a delay between hitting the button and the flames jumping to life. I waited, and was glad when the room was finally illuminated.

  I wrapped myself in the afghan from one of the couches and walked to the kitchen. I didn’t bother lighting a candle since the firelight from the other room reached well enough to see by. My stomach growled. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since I’d eaten last. I opened a cabinet and looked inside without much enthusiasm. I found a jar of green olives and a bottle of flavored water and set them on the counter while I continued to rummage through a second cabinet. I settled on the last little foil pouch of Pop Tarts and carried the three items back to the living room where I set them on the small coffee table. I plopped on the couch and sipped at the water. Before long I was guzzling and it was gone.

  I heard water running upstairs, and figured someone was showering. I used my teeth to open the foil pouch and nibbled on one of the two Pop Tarts inside. My stomach rolled in protest so I stopped halfway through and set it back down. I leaned back into the couch and wrapped the afghan tightly around myself. I closed my eyes and tried to think about nothing. Several minutes passed before I heard the stairs creaking. I turned to look and saw Gus, wrapped in a towel from the waist down, descending from the second story.

  “Hey Zoe,” he said in a flat tone. He sounded emotionally exhausted.

  “Hey,” I said back without lifting my head.

  “Sorry if I upset you earlier,” he said. “It was a little tough for me.”

  “I understand,” I said quietly.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked, motioning to the seat beside me.

  “Nope, go ahead,” I answered.

  He sat beside me, careful to make sure his towel kept him covered.

  “Can I finish your Pop Tart?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He picked up the faux pastry and took a large bite. “Pretty bad stuff,” he admitted.

  “Where’s Em?” I asked quietly.

  “Asleep. This has all hit her pretty hard. Boggs?”

  “Same,” was all I said.

  “Susan?” he asked.

  “She’s really upset. I had her get in our bed.”

  Gus nodded. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

  “She probably feels like she just lost her whole family,” I said quietly. “Wanda, Julio, Louisa. I know how it feels.”

  Gus sighed. “I had forgotten about your folks and your sister,” he said. “This must be really hard on you too, Zoe.”

  I nodded. “I’m glad though, in a way.”

  He looked at me sideways, pausing in chewing.

  “I just mean glad that my family doesn’t have to go through this hell.”

  He nodded. “I think that’s probably a normal thought to have.”

  “I think the baby might have been tough on Susan too.”

  “Fucking tough on all of us,” mumbled Gus.

  “She had an abortion not long ago,” I said. “I’m guessing it’s reminding her of that. I know she chose to do it, but it still had to be hard.”

  “I didn’t know,” he said.

  “Boggs told me. The day this all started. He was pretty crushed about it.”

  Gus choked slightly. “It was Boggs’ baby?”

  I nodded.

  “Shit, I didn’t realize he and Susan had been that close.”

  I sighed. “From what he told me they weren’t. They got drunk. She told him about the pregnancy after she had aborted the baby.”

  “You must really hate her being here,” he said.

  “It is what it is, I guess. Can you open the olives for me?”

  Gus just stared at me for a moment before he reached for the jar on the table. He twisted the lid and I heard the seal break. I reached for the jar and slumped back into the couch again. I popped one into my mouth while Gus wiped his hand on his towel.

  “So much better than the Pop Tarts,” I said.

  Gus wrinkled his nose at me. “I’ve always hated the green ones.”

  “I think she might be ok. Susan I mean. I saw how she was with Louisa. Maybe she just puts up a tough front?”

  “Maybe,” he said softly. “You gonna eat the other Pop Tart?”

  I shook my head no.

>   Gus reached for the other pastry and I took a sip of olive juice.

  “Nasty, Zoe.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Don’t drink the juice. You’ll get sick.” He took the jar away from me. “We should get some sleep.”

  “No room in our bed,” I mumbled.

  “She’s in bed with him?” Gus asked, sounding shocked.

  “She’s in bed. He’s on top of the bed.”

  “I’ll go wake Susan and have her climb in bed with Emilie,” he said.

  “No, let them sleep.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Ya. Emilie too. I’ll be ok down here on the couch.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” he said. “I need a joint, Zoe.”

  He stood and walked to the kitchen. I silently admired the muscles of his back. When he came back he had one of the shoeboxes that had been with us for so many days. He took out a thin paper that was nestled in the bottom and rolled weed into it.

  “Do you mind?” he asked.

  I shook my head no. “Go ahead.”

  He lit the end of the joint and took a drag. It smelled horrible. I watched as he exhaled slowly and saw his body relax. He held it out to me. I considered for a moment before taking it in my hand.

  I took a drag myself. I held the smoke in my lungs until I began to cough. It wasn’t as bad this time as it had been back at the little stone shack. The room seemed to slow, if a room can slow. I took a second drag, wanting to numb myself. Gus took the joint from my hand and smoked more himself. I felt relaxed, and hungry. Before long Gus and I were both snacking on the green olives. I watched lazily as he took a sip of the juice as I had done earlier. He made a sour face and set it back down.

  “Nasty,” he whispered.

  I was feeling sleepy and yawned. Gus held an arm out to me and I leaned against him. He held me with his free arm. “Sleep, Zoe,” he whispered.

  I felt safe beside him. His warmth enveloped me as I fell asleep.

  The sounds of the others woke me. Gus was still sitting beside me, asleep. The fireplace was still lit and I saw traces of daylight from the staircase. I sat up, groggy. Emilie was standing in front of us, about to cover us with a blanket from the other loveseat.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Hey,” I said back. “Where’s Boggs?”

  “He’s in the kitchen with Susan,” she whispered. “We’re just about to make breakfast, but if you want to sleep more I can save you some.”

  I shook my head no. “I’ll come and help.”

  “Looks like you guys had quite a night down here,” she said. “I trust Gus was a gentleman?”

  “Of course,” I smiled. I was glad Em wasn’t the jealous type. She easily could have assumed Gus and I had done something inappropriate.

  I undraped Gus’ arm from my shoulder and stood as quietly as I could. I set my afghan over him, and Em laid the other blanket she had on top. I walked with her to the kitchen.

  “Morning, Zo,” said Boggs with a soft smile. “Missed you last night.” I smiled at him gently as he walked to me and kissed my forehead. “You smell like pot,” he whispered into my ear.

  “Morning,” said Susan.

  “Sleep well?” I asked.

  “Not really,” she said. “It’s just hard with everything that’s happened.”

  “Ya,” I said. “It sure is.”

  “Coffee should be ready,” said Emilie. “Who all wants some?”

  “Me,” said Susan. “Please.”

  “Boggs?” asked Em.

  He nodded.

  “Zo?” Emilie asked me.

  I shook my head no. “My stomach doesn’t feel so hot.”

  “Probably from the olive juice,” said Gus groggily as he joined us, still wrapped in his towel from the night before.

  “Morning, handsome,” said Emile with a genuine smile.

  He walked to her and hugged her like he never wanted to let go. I wondered if Julio was embracing Louisa and their tiny baby right now. I hoped so. I hoped there really was an afterlife awaiting us. Gus finally let Emilie go and kissed her cheek.

  “Can I have a cup too?” he asked her as he took the mug from her hand and sipped.

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  As Emilie helped herself to a new cup of coffee, Boggs cleared his throat to speak.

  “We need to bury them,” he said. We all knew he meant mother and child.

  “Do you think we can go back to get Julio?” asked Susan.

  Gus shook his head while he swallowed a mouthful of his hot coffee.

  Boggs spoke up. “There’s a lot we need to talk about. We had to approach the cabin on foot from the other side of the lake.”

  “Why?” asked Emilie. “Where’s the Explorer?”

  “It’s parked at the end of a road on the other side of the lake,” answered Gus. “The highway that accesses the cabin’s driveway is a death trap. We got to a bed and breakfast, but barely. The dead fuckers are out there attacking travelers as they pass by.”

  “It’s what happened at the big wreck we all stopped at just before the general store,” I added. “We came across a minivan. It was horrible.” I cringed, remembering the massive amounts of blood inside the vehicle.

  Boggs sat at the kitchen table with his coffee. I walked over and sat on his lap.

  “They’re ambushing by using humans as bait,” said Boggs. “And trying to make some of their own look like us.”

  “We had to hunker down for the night, that’s why it took us so long to get back,” said the cowboy. “They left one waiting for us to slip up, hoping to find us. We had to wait for it to leave.”

  “Shit,” said Susan.

  “I killed one of them while we were there,” I said in a lowered voice. “There were two humans too, who died.” My eyes were starting to water at the memories.

  “Who?” asked Emilie.

  Gus spoke for me, to my relief. “It’s probably best we not talk about it right now,” he said. “Later, Em, ok?”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s just say Julio won’t still be there,” I whispered.

  “For the sake of not attracting their attention, we should bury Louisa and the baby instead of cremating them,” advised Gus.

  “Can we bury her with the baby in her arms?” I asked, my tears falling once again.

  Boggs wrapped his arms around me protectively and held me to him. “Of course we can, Zo. Of course we can.”

  “We should all try to eat something,” said Gus.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said.

  “We all have to take care of ourselves, Zoe,” said Emilie.

  “Later, ok?” I said gently.

  She nodded and Boggs kissed the top of my head.

  “Why don’t you girls head up to one of the bedrooms while Gus and I carry Louisa down,” suggested Gus. “We’ll take her out with us and let you all know when we’re ready to say goodbye.”

  “No,” I said. “Let us clean them up first?”

  “Zo, sweetheart, you don’t need to see either of them looking like they do. Please trust me?” Boggs looked at me with pleading eyes.

  I nodded in acceptance. “Can you at least wrap the baby in something, and put him in Louisa’s arms?”

  “Sure, Zoe. Of course,” Boggs replied lovingly. “Do you want to find something for wrapping the baby?”

  “Ya,” I said as I stood. “I know just what to use.” I ran upstairs into the bathroom and opened the linen closet next to the bathtub. I recalled seeing a sheer white pillow case inside at some point. I found it quickly and unfolded it. The open end was trimmed in lace. The baby was so small I knew it would be plenty big enough to swaddle him in.

  I walked with the cloth back to the hall. I stopped, looking at the door to Louisa’s room. I decided I owed her and the baby one last favor, so ignored Boggs’ request and walked quietly to within reach of the doorknob. I placed my hand on it, took a deep breath, and turned the knob. The sic
kly sweet smell hit me. I opened my mouth to divert my breathing away from my nose, and closed the door behind me after I entered the room. The candles had been blown out and the only light in the room came from the edges of the window. I opened the curtains wide and the room was filled with natural light. The bed was still covered in blood and Louisa’s form was hidden under a sheet. I crept to her side. I was afraid of what I would see when I lowered the cloth.

  I gripped the pillow case in the crook of one arm and used my other hand to pull the sheet back. I hadn’t been prepared for what I saw. Louisa laid there, an unnatural shade of gray. Faint green lines streaked her cheeks and neck. “My hip,” I whispered. “Oh Louisa,” I said under my breath. “I’m so sorry, sweet Louisa.” Her forehead was marked by a dark hole where Gus had shot her. I dared to reach out and touch her hair. It was so soft, like silk. I smoothed it around her face, arranging it on her shoulders. I brought my hand to my mouth and covered it, not sure what else to do. Once I was able to compose myself enough, I pulled the sheet down past her chest. Her hands still held the tiny baby.

  I placed one of my hands on hers to release her grip. She was so incredibly cold. I had never touched a dead person before. Not even my parents or my sister. I had refused to look at their bodies after they died. I took my hand away quickly, not expecting the chill that transferred from her skin to my own. I took a deep breath and tried again. Her hands came away easily. I laid the pillowcase out beside her, and picked the tiny body of the baby up using both of my hands. He couldn’t have weighed more than a pound, and would have fit in one of my hands. I knew he was dead, but I still didn’t want to break him. He was colder than Louisa had felt. His body still felt sticky from birth. His skin was so thin and purple, especially where he had rested upon his mother. I couldn’t help but look at him, so frail and small. I turned his limp body over in my hands and realized that Boggs had crushed his head to end his life as a newly born living dead. “Nooooo,” I moaned quietly. I fought to hold in tears. I took a shuddering breath and laid the infant on the white pillowcase. I wasn’t sure how to swaddle a baby, but did my best to wrap the cloth around him. I used the lace edge to hide the top of his misshapen head. I laid him to rest in his mother’s arms again. I didn’t have the heart to cover them with the sheet. It was too final.