by R A Doty
A sense of relief became evident on Betty’s face. It would be terrifying to try and survive without the safety of the church, but with Cain by their side she felt like anything was possible. She had always dreamed about leaving the church, but where would she go, and how could she survive on her own? She trembled with excitement and gave Cain a hug.
Hugs were something Cain never did. It just felt awkward and weird to be that close to somebody. He patted Betty’s back, not entirely sure what to do with his arms. Calla and April smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Two
NIGHTTIME had come, and the streets of the city were the last place you wanted to be after dark. Even Cain felt somewhat uncomfortable as he walked down the sidewalk with the three women close behind. Fortunately, the light of the moon and the lack of clouds in the sky made it possible to navigate the streets and alleys. He peered around each corner before moving forward, the women stopping and continuing as if being attached to him by an invisible rope.
Betty and Calla noticed nothing but the path ahead, their eyes wide with fear, but April’s attention was focused on the black sky dotted with bright stars above. She sometimes bumped into Calla when she stopped suddenly. Even then her eyes went back to the sky. It was the same sky she had seen thousands of times just before being locked in her pen for the night at the kennel, but this sky somehow seemed different. Magical. Infinite. The sound of the voices in the distance pulled her from the sky’s captivating trance. Before she sensed what was happening, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her along. It was Calla’s hand, and she was trying desperately to keep up with Cain and Betty as they ran down a nearby alley.
“Hey, you people,” a voice yelled from somewhere behind them. “You can’t hide from us. We’re gonna find you eventually.” The voice sounded louder as it continued. “I promise we won’t hurt you.” Whoever was behind them was catching up. Calla’s heart pounded as she ran and the thought of trying not to trip was the only thing on her mind. She and April could probably run faster if they released each other’s hand, but she couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t let go. Ever. When they turned a corner, Cain pulled them into a recessed doorway where Betty was waiting. The three of them huddled together while Cain stood firm in the center of the alley, waiting for what was to come.
When the first one ran around the corner, Cain took him down fast with a punch to the forehead. A second and third boy followed, and right after, a fourth and a fifth. All of them looked to be in their late teens. They circled Cain, three of the four punching their fists into their palms. The fourth waved a long knife in front of his face.
“We don’t want to fight you,” the one with the knife said. “Just give us the girls you were with.” He scanned the alley for possible hiding places. “I know they’re around here somewhere.”
Cain stood firm, trying to keep an eye on each of the boys as they circled him. When the first attacked from the side he elbowed him in the face, dropping him to the ground. Two more attacked simultaneously from the front and rear. He stepped sideways and smashed their heads together. One fell immediately, the other touched the gaping gash in his forehead, looked at his blood covered hand, and dropped to his knees. He then fell face-first onto the concrete. The last was the one with the knife. He shifted his weight from foot to foot with the knife held high. With four of the five boys down, the challenge was over for Cain. He walked slowly toward the last one.
“I’ll slice you up, buddy,” the boy said, gripping the knife firmly. “Just a little closer.” The boy cupped his fingers into his palm, motioning the giant of a man in front of him to proceed forward.
Cain did continue forward and never slowed his pace as he stepped right up to the boy. When the boy swung the knife he grabbed his arm, and the weapon fell to the ground. A quick jerk of his hand snapped the boy’s wrist. The boy screamed and fell to his knees, his left hand steadying his right arm. Cain knelt down and gripped the boy’s head between his hands. He remembered the teenagers who killed Shannon. Shannon. He couldn’t remember the last time he thought of her. Had he really changed that much?
“Please, mister. Don’t kill me. We just wanted to have a little fun. We wouldn’t have hurt anyone.”
Cain focused on the boy’s face. The flesh of his cheeks was warm on his palms. He looked to be about seventeen or so. “They’re just kids. The oldest can’t be more than seventeen.” He barely remembered the sound of Shannon’s voice.
“Cain, don’t,” Betty said, walking over. “He’s just a boy.”
Cain looked at her, and with one swift twist the neck broke. The body thumped to the ground.
Betty pushed her hand to her mouth. Calla and April appeared from behind her.
“Why did you kill them all?” Calla said.
April stared at the boy on the ground. She knelt down, amazed at how odd his head looked, twisted so far to the side. She turned her head to see how far it would go.
Cain picked up the knife and continued walking down the street.
“Come on, girls,” Betty said, corralling Calla and April with her arms. They followed Cain, April studying each boy’s body as she passed.
It was too risky to try to leave the city at night. Too many dangers lurking in the shadows. Cain now focused on a place to hide out until morning. A cloud slowly passed before the moon, a warning that time was running out, what little light illuminated the streets had begun to slip away.
Cain kicked in the nearest door, it was black with the words KEEP OUT spray-painted vertically in large white letters that took up the entire length of the door. The few locks on the inside gave little resistance, considering the person that wrote on the door obviously wanted to shield himself from the outside world. Cain walked into a large open room, a living room; the ceiling was at least ten feet high and the woodwork very ornate, a Victorian. Shannon loved Victorian millwork. The first apartment they looked at was a Victorian. Shannon wanted it, but the rent turned out to be much more than they could afford. Someday, I promise, Cain remembered saying. “I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Shannon said, followed by a kiss. He touched his cheek, as if a part of her would still be lingering on his skin. Just before the cloud had consumed the last of the light shining from the moon, Cain saw the man sitting in the chair, a rifle propped against his side. The room went black.
In less than the time it took Cain to fumble for and grab a standing floor lamp he noticed next to a nearby chair, a beam of light bounced off the ceiling and began to sweep the entirety of the room. “This is a pretty room,” Betty said, a flashlight stretched out in front of her. Betty was always prepared. She probably had a first-aid kit and enough rations to last them a week somewhere on her person. Cain grabbed the light and focused it on the man in the chair. He didn’t move. Still in the same position. The gun still by his side.
Calla shrieked when she noticed the man with black holes where his eyes should have been, facing in their direction.
“Shhhh,” Betty said, glancing behind them toward the open door, as if the giant head of the city had just turned in their direction.
Cain walked up to the man and pried the rifle from his stiff hand. Three of the fingers cracked like twigs of a branch being snapped in half. Betty winced with squinted eyes. Cain gave the flashlight back to her and positioned her hands so the light focused on the gun. He admired its craftsmanship, a 3030 Winchester, a real antique. Within seconds the gun seemed to break in half as he examined the chamber for ammo. Miraculously, it was fully loaded. He snapped the gun closed, retrieved the light from Betty again, and proceeded to inspect the apartment. He searched for a staircase. It would be safer on a second or third floor. If nothing else, they may hear the stairs creak from the weight of an intruder. Any warning was better than none.
Calla followed as close to Cain as she could get. She needed to stay near the light. The dead man creeped her out. She imagined him standing and rushing toward her with outstretched arms. Chills ran down her spine at the thought. April, on the othe
r hand, had no fear of the dark. It was always a part of her life. Sometimes when the kennel lights went out she would stand in front of her door and stare out at the darkened world she couldn’t get to. She would circle her room repeatedly and go back to the door, not once bumping into her bunk or the walls. She memorized every inch of the room and knew exactly how many steps she could take in either direction before hitting the walls. Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep, she would walk around the room imagining it was the real world. Would it feel soft beneath her bare feet or hard like the concrete of her floor? What did the trees feel like, as Calla called them? Would they be rough to the touch or smooth as the cube in the center of the yard?
As she followed the other three, her hands searched for anything she could touch in the dark. The walls felt smooth like paper, a vertical line scraping her fingers every now and again. When the walls ended, her fingers followed the contour of another smooth surface, the bumps and coves of the millwork transferring the mystery of its appearance to her imagination. When the others began to ascend a staircase, she smiled at the feel of the newel post under her hand, a kaleidoscope of shapes she didn’t want to let go of. With her hand now sliding over the bannister, she easily climbed the stairs, remembering how Calla had promised she would get used to the act. Calla was right. It was hardly a challenge anymore. When she followed the others through a doorway, Cain closed the door behind her.
The room they entered was just as big as the one being guarded by the dead man. Cain placed the flashlight on a dark wooden dresser that stretched halfway across one of the walls. Two windows reaching from the floor to the ceiling balanced out another wall. The door they entered was in the center of the third wall and a giant bed surrounded by four large, ornate posts took up the majority of the last wall. April had never seen such a bed, not even on Calla’s tablet. It was five times the size of her plain bunk that she slept on for years. Why would anyone need such an enormous bed? Were people on the mainland larger than those on Ancada? Is that why they had to stay away from the mainland? That explains why the windows and doors are so large. The thought of such giant creatures frightened her, and she sensed a real fear of her new surroundings.
Cain pointed to Betty and the two girls, and then to the bed. After Betty and the girls were nestled under the covers, he sat on the floor with his back against the door, the gun placed across his legs. They were safe. For now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
APRIL opened her eyes with a yawn. The room was now light enough to see every detail, and it took her a few seconds to realize she wasn’t in her pen at the kennel. She twisted her head to the side. Calla was gone. To the other side. Betty, too, was gone. She sat up. Cain was gone. Her entire body tingled as the adrenaline raced through her veins. Her heart pumped faster and faster, and her breathing quickened as if fueling a fire. Her skin glistened with sweat as she jumped off the bed. It was so far to the floor that she almost fell trying to catch her balance. The thought of being away from the security of the kennel frightened her, but the thought of being alone in this new land without Calla terrified her. How could she possibly survive? She raced to one of the enormous windows and stared down at the street. Aside from a few abandoned cars and some garbage spread here and there it was empty. No signs of life. She scanned the city in front of her, the tops of most of the buildings clearly visible. In the far distance, the church steeple. Should she go back and ask for help to locate Calla and the others?
And then there was movement below. A shadow, growing smaller as it neared the street corner. What was around the corner? It had to be Calla, Betty, or Cain. A head appeared first, peering around the corner, ten feet above the sidewalk. Long black hair, an oblong-shaped head, and white eyes staring right at her. She ducked behind the side of the window, her hand trembling. When she peeked again, the figure was walking toward her, its eyes still focused on her face. She had to find one of the others. They had to run. To hide. They needed a weapon. Cain would protect them. Where’s Cain?
She heard the door below open, its hinges creaking slightly. She opened the bedroom door and looked down the hallway. Maybe the others went to another room. She rushed across the hallway and darted through one of the other doors that looked exactly like the one she just left. The room was similar in size with pink and white vertically striped walls. There was a small version of an ornate house on a table in the center of the room. She remembered seeing something similar on Calla’s tablet. A dollhouse. For a doll. I’m just a doll, Calla had said. The stairs in the hallway groaned with the weight of the person, or thing, climbing them. She had to hide. The closet. Before she could move, the bedroom doorknob turned and the door opened slowly. The face from the street peeked through the crack between the door and the jamb. Its eyes still focused on her face. Only now, April could clearly see the smile stretching from one of its ears to the other, sharp pointed teeth filling the void between. It made no sound.
April wanted to scream, she needed help, she had to run, but she was frozen. Her legs wouldn’t move. The thing stepped closer. It was very tall. The tenant of this dwelling. The large bed and windows. It lived here and she was invading its home. It held up a long, shiny knife. The same knife Calla’s mother had used.
“This would easily remove her head. And then I’ll remove her limbs, one by one.”
The knife came down swiftly.
April raised her arms to block it. Her hands smashed against the headboard. Her eyes popped open. She gasped for air, her lungs pulling it in and pushing it back out. She twisted her head to the side, Calla’s eyes were closed, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. On the other side, Betty was breathing heavily, snoring she believed it was called. She sat up and glanced at the door. Cain was gone. Her head fell forward as if a string holding it up had snapped. She sat in that position until her breathing had calmed. She then hopped off the bed and walked to the door, careful not to wake the others.
THE dream was still fresh in her mind as April walked down the staircase. Sunlight beamed from the windows below, brightening each of the large rooms she passed on the first floor. The structure looked spectacular in the daylight. The walls were dressed in colorful designs, each room equally as impressive. But her dream wouldn’t allow her to enjoy it as much as she wanted. She had to find Cain. What if a creature like the one in her dream did live here? She searched each of the rooms, but he was nowhere to be found. Did she dare go outside? What choice did she have? She glanced at the dead man in the chair; he hadn’t moved. Sometimes reality is more frightening than any dream we can imagine. Upon opening the door they entered the building through the night before, she gasped at the figure standing in the doorway. It was Cain, looking out toward the city. He turned and raised his lip slightly when he saw her. Smiling was a gesture that was all but forgotten.
April closed the door and stood beside Cain, the city staring back at them, daring them to step forward. They said nothing, each lost in thought, two totally different backgrounds merging together in a snippet of time. This is where their lives had led them. It wasn’t the first time their paths had crossed, and somehow, they both knew it. What did they do and where had they gone since they last met? April didn’t have much of a story to tell. Didn’t do much, and most of her life was spent in the same exact location, day after day—the kennel—until she met Calla.
Cain’s life was very similar. Didn’t do much, and most of his life since they last met was also spent in the same exact location—the church. It was as if they were waiting for this very day to arrive to continue with the life that was meant for them both. Cain turned and stared down at the small girl standing beside him. Her hair seemed to burn red in the sunshine. She glanced up and smiled. He slowly raised his hand and touched the scar on her upper lip. If he could only say I’m sorry. He pulled back, as if touching the scar would bring back the pain she experienced because of him.
“I sometimes have a distant memory,” April said. “So distant that I often wonder if it was re
al or just a dream. I was very small. The walls were all white and I was walking. I’m not sure where I was going or why, but I remember walking. There were many doors, each looking exactly the same as the last. And then one of the doors opened suddenly. I fell to the floor. I cried.” She touched her lip in the same spot Cain had touched it. “A man appeared and helped me up. His hands were big, yet kind. His eyes sincere. He said nothing.” April held Cain’s hand. He smiled with a nod.
Cain hardened with each year he had spent with the church, and if not for Janette, that hardened shell would have consumed what little was left of his conscious. When Janette had gone he didn’t care anymore, as if she had taken the last bit of kindness he had hidden deep inside with her. But now, after meeting the small red-haired girl that haunted many of his dreams, that hardened shell had begun to soften. Even more so as he held her hand, so frail he could surely break it with a quick squeeze. He remembered every evil deed he had committed for the sake of the church. Every sacrifice made by his hands at David’s request. What had he become? Shannon would be so disappointed. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes; the first in many years. But maybe there’s still time to change. Perhaps his life could still have some memorable meaning, if nothing else but to protect this young woman from a world that would most certainly gobble her up and spit her back out. He at least owed her that. He released her hand and guided her to the door, his hand now on her back. When they went inside, Betty and Calla were heading down the stairs, Calla yawning and scratching her head.
“Where were you guys?” Calla said.
“Just standing outside, getting some air,” April replied.
Betty headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll see if I can rustle us up something to eat.” When she arrived in the kitchen she headed right to the refrigerator. She slammed the door immediately after opening it. The stench forced her hand to her nose. “That was stupid. I don’t know what I was expecting to find in there.” The others sat at a yellow, lacquered-top table with stainless steel edge banding, the chairs squeaking on the black-and-white checked linoleum as they each pulled one out. Betty continued searching the cabinets until finding a mother-load of canned goods. Her mouth opened at the site of all the labels neatly organized to face forward. Cans of potatoes were stacked to the far left with ten cans of corned-beef hash next to them. Twenty cans of soup, mostly split pea with ham, occupied the center of the cabinet, and the entire right side contained every possible variety of canned fruit imaginable.
