by R. R. Banks
“Why didn’t Mama tell me? Doesn’t she know?”
Daniel slipped the paper from Eva’s lap and rolled it loosely, entombing the photograph inside. Eva glanced back toward the window. The Saturday afternoon sun mocked her, dancing across the windowpane as it began to sink.
“Why haven’t they stopped him, Daniel? Why do they let him keep going?”
Daniel dropped beside her, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. He held her hand against his cheek and looked into her eyes. They stared back at him through a veil of desperation and grief.
Eva had never thought of Daniel as her big brother, despite her mother’s marriage to his father when she was five, him seven. He was her closest companion; same friends, same pastimes, same run-down warehouse hideout for when the screaming fights began. Eight years after they wed, Daniel and Eva’s parents’ marriage dissolved beneath a torrent of violent arguments. Daniel’s father stormed out of the house late one night, dragging his half-asleep son by the collar of his nightshirt. There was fire in his eyes that night, and whiskey on his breath. Six months passed before Eva heard from Daniel again. And then it was only a phone call.
“Eva, Eva, he’s dead, Eva.”
“Who? Daniel? Who is dead?”
“Dad. He’s dead.”
His father’s truck had been discovered at the bottom of a ravine, his alcohol-soaked corpse crushed until almost unrecognizable. Eva’s mother had calmed the hysterical fifteen-year-old, promising that he would be fine; she would work everything out. It would take months of legal red tape but finally Daniel was allowed to return to Eva and Gloria. He had not left her side since. They had spent thirteen years living as siblings but then, as she sat staring into his eyes, her palm was burning where his lips had touched.
“Eva!” The thick band of charged air between Eva and Daniel broke as they looked toward the front door. Eva’s hand fell away from Daniel’s chest and he stood, raking his fingers back through his hair. Eva, shaking the fog from her mind, stood and straightened the hem of her shirt.
“Mama, I’m in here.” Her mother stepped into the room. Her lengthy body seemed shrunken, her shoulders sagging beneath the weight of some invisible force. The handle of her briefcase slipped from her fingers and the brown leather bag fell to the floor. Tears glistened on the rims of her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, washing away the makeup and leaving her dusky skin sticky.
“Eva, I have something I need to tell you.” Eva stepped closer to her, reaching to touch her arm.
“I know, Mama. I know about Aunt Tina.”
“I’m sorry, Gloria.” Daniel offered weakly, leaving the room and discomfort of the emotional scene. Since the death of his father, Daniel avoided emotion, preferring to withdraw into himself, into his own thoughts.
“She was young, Eva, too young. What did she do to anyone? What did my baby sister do to anyone?” Gloria fell into Eva’s arms, sobbing. Eva gently petted her head, as her own tears fell softly into Gloria’s hair.
“Nothing, Mama. It wasn’t Tina’s fault.”
Daniel climbed the stairs to his room two at a time but shut the door slowly, careful not to slam it and disturb Gloria and Eva. Thoughts swirled madly in his mind, ramming against one another in a complex web of words and phrases. Downstairs stood the two people closest to him, suffering, but he couldn’t bring himself to join them. He couldn’t look into their eyes and see the agony. His father’s death had been shocking, gruesome, and Daniel had never truly recovered but at least he had died because of his own horrible choices. At least his death was his own, not random violence, not someone else’s cruel game.
Daniel fell onto his bed, sprawled on his back with his arms hanging off the sides. After a moment, he sat up and opened his nightstand drawer. He scrounged through the contents, tossing aside old papers and magazines until he discovered what he was searching for. Sitting back against the headboard, Daniel pulled his knees close to his chest and held the piece of glossy paper on his lap. He stared down at it and felt the familiar heat begin to flood the hollow of his chest. It was a photograph of him and Eva, worn at the corners from Daniel’s hours of staring at it and weeks of sleeping with it clutched against him.
The photo had been taken in the park the previous summer at a Fourth of July picnic. In it Daniel sat on a soft yellow blanket, holding Eva in his arms while they watched fireworks. She smiled up at him from the photo, her eyes glowing with the reflection of the suspended showers of light above her head. Daniel looked at the image of himself. It was obvious even then as he held Eva close to him and gazed more deeply at her than the multicolor explosions. He loved her.
Daniel took the pillow from behind his back and shoved it against his face, screaming into it. When he had no breath left he dropped the pillow to his knees and his head against the wall. He loved her and yet he couldn’t go to her, comfort her. He couldn’t take her into his arms and damn the man that caused her such pain. She was his sister. Not by blood but close enough that the emotion pulsating deep in his veins felt wrong.
Eva released Gloria and brushed her hair from her eyes. She wished Daniel hadn’t left, wished he were there to ease the pain, share his own grief with her. He had known Tina just as well as she had. Eva knew he was in his room, cowering from his emotion as he had consistently done since his father’s death. But that had been nearly five years ago. Suddenly she was angry.
“Mama, why don’t you go on to bed. I’ll come check on you later.” Eva kissed Gloria’s cheek and watched her walk slowly to her bedroom in the back corner of the house. When she was out of sight Eva ran up the stairs, stopping in front of Daniel’s room. Loud music filtered beneath the door. Eva lifted her fist and pounded sharply. “Daniel! Open the door!”
Daniel bolted upright, hurriedly pushing the papers he studied under his bed.
“Hold on one sec.”
He carefully placed the photograph back in the drawer and covered it with a magazine.
“One! Daniel, open the door!” Daniel slammed the drawer closed and launched himself across his bed, checking his face quickly in the mirror to ensure no tears had slipped free. “Daniel!”
He reached for the knob, unlocked it and pulled it open.
“What?” He nearly screamed at her, instantly feeling guilty when he saw her tear-swollen eyes. She stammered for a moment then turned to walk away. He lunged forward, grabbing her arm. “Eva, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, come here.”
He gently tugged her into his room, releasing his arms as she slumped onto his bed. Daniel sat carefully beside her, leaving space between them.
“Why do you do this, Daniel?” He placed a hand on hers and felt her tense.
“What?”
When her hand didn’t relax he let his fingers fall from hers onto the bedspread.
“Run away.”
“But I’m right here, Eva.”
Daniel took her hand again. He leaned closer to her, tilted his face to look into her eyes. Eva shook her head, long stands of honey-streaked deep brown clinging to her damp cheeks.
“No, Daniel. From us. You run away from us every time something happens that may risk you having to let down your walls. You’re not invincible, Daniel.”
“I know, Eva. I’m sorry. It’s just that…I mean…when Dad died I…”
“I know, Daniel, I know. I know it hurts but I’m hurting now and I need you.”
She looked up at him, the sparkle in her eyes doused by her tears.
“Eva…I…I don’t know what…I need you, too.”
Daniel wove his fingers through hers, squeezing her hand and sliding toward her until their thighs touched. The air between them thickened as their eyes met. Eva forgot the horror, the pain of the last two weeks. Daniel’s gaze burned into her and suddenly his lips were brushing hers. They pulled back, hearts pounding, minds whirring. “Daniel, I…”
“Shhhh. I know.”
He touched his fingertip to her lips.
“Eva!”
Gloria’s voice shattered the quiet moment. Eva jumped off the bed and scurried to the door.
“Yes, Mama?”
Daniel stepped up behind Eva and put his hands around her waist.
“Can you bring me a glass of iced tea?” Her voice was shallow and quivering.
“Yes, Mama.”
Daniel placed a finger under Eva’s chin and lifted her lips to his before she swept from the room. Daniel returned to his bed and sat with his head buried in his hands.
“God, this is so wrong,” he groaned to himself, but as he lay back he couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto his face.
Eva, clutching a condensation-soaked glass of iced tea, approached her mother’s bed and touched her shoulder. Gloria started, nearly knocking the glass from Eva’s hand.
“Mama, it’s me.”
Gloria stared into Eva’s face as if unsure that she was looking at her daughter. Her black eyes like polished coal, the curves of her face harsh, Gloria glared at Eva for a moment then suddenly relaxed.
“Eva, be careful. There’ll be more.”
Her accent gave Gloria’s voice a gently lilt. The terror flooded back, clamped down on Eva like a steel vice. She nodded, unaware if it was noticeable or not.
“I will, Mama.”
Gloria took the glass from Eva and drank deeply.
“Good,” she whispered, more to the icy liquid than to Eva, then placed the glass on her night table.
Without another word, Gloria sank back into the bed and closed her eyes. Eva lingered for a moment then left, her mother’s words reverberating in her mind.
*****************************
Each week there were more. Three towns now searched the hundreds of acres of woods that had whispered the death rites of eleven men and women.
He was unique. That’s how the news anchors described the killer. He thrived on the protection of the deep woods; the anonymity of killing in the ways of sportsman. He often left the bodies strung on trees, and from each a piece was missing. Three were decapitated, four disemboweled, two others missing limbs. And there were two others. Two others whose bodies were never found, who left only pools of blood and pieces of discarded tissue. There was no suspect, no leads, only assumptions that it was a man, and that he was a hunter.
*******************************
“I’m worried about her,” Eva whispered, easing the door to her mother’s bedroom closed. “It’s been three weeks and she hasn’t left her room.”
Daniel took her hand and pulled her towards the stairs. She hesitated, reluctant to leave Gloria but finally followed, clinging to Daniel’s hand as they descended the stairs. They sat in the sunroom, pulling an olive-green blanket across their laps. Eva lay her head on Daniel’s chest. Her hair felt smooth beneath his cheek and the delicate scent of lilac wafted up from it.
“Eva.”
Daniel murmured her name, tasting it as it glided across his tongue and fell from his lips.
“Hmm?” she sighed, shifting against him.
“I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“Aunt Tina.” Eva sat up and stared into Daniel’s eyes. “I just wanted you to know that I loved her too and--- I’m here for you.” Eva kissed him softly and cuddled back into his arms. She lay there in silence, staring at the white wall in front of them, at the watercolor of a grazing deer. Her eyes narrowed.
“Daniel?” It was his turn to sigh in response. “Why don’t they notice?”
“Who?”
“The deer.”
“Why don’t the deer notice what?”
“The hunter.”
Daniel’s muscles tightened at her words.
“Because he’s quiet. And the animals aren’t smart enough to look out.”
There was a heavy pause.
“Are people smart enough?”
Her voice had reduced to a powdery whisper. Daniel drew her closer to him, his gaze joining hers on the painting.
“I don’t know.”
Halloween had come and been forgotten. There had been no trick-or-treaters, no mock tombstones decorating lawns or bloody masks on teenage faces. Schools had cancelled evening activities, stores closed early. Eva felt like the world was shutting down to protect them from the hunter. It had been nearly six weeks since the first killing, four days since the last. Gloria had not emerged from her bedroom, preferring the solitude as she slowly disintegrated in her grief. Eva and Daniel were left to care for themselves.
Eva pushed away her blankets and stepped out into the frigid air of her bedroom. Early morning sunlight speckled the floor in cool grey pools that rippled as soft breath from her partially open windows moved the curtains. Her feet felt cold even through her thick socks. She wandered across the hall into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Behind her the shower curtain hung damp. Daniel had already taken a shower. Eva left the bathroom and walked around the house, calling to Daniel in a low voice.
“Daniel? Where are you?”
He wasn’t downstairs so she climbed the stairs and went into his bedroom. On his bed lay a half-sheet of lined paper. Eva picked it up and read the short note.
Eva, I went out for a while with Erik. Be back by tonight.
PS—Sorry I didn’t wake you up before I left. You looked so peaceful.
Eva smiled. I wish you had woken me up, she thought. She had become restless in the silent week.
By nightfall Daniel had not returned. Eva sat up that night, unable to sleep, consumed by worry. She watched television in the dark and waited for the door to open, the phone to ring, anything. The next morning Eva didn’t go to school. She shook Gloria awake and told her Daniel was missing. Gloria looked at her with confusion-fogged eyes.
“Daniel? What do you mean he’s missing?” She propped herself up on one elbow.
“Missing, Mama. He left yesterday morning with Erik and hasn’t come back.”
“Has he called?”
“No!”
Eva was becoming hysterical. Gloria jumped up and pushed Eva aside on her way to the desk at the opposite side of the room. She grabbed the phone from the stand. Her fingers flew across the numbers. Voice high and loud, Gloria screamed at the police that her son was missing. Eva found herself defensive. He’s not your son, she thought harshly then shoved aside the thought, remembering that Gloria loved Daniel as her son, had for thirteen years.
“They’re sending men out to look for him, Eva. It’ll be ok.”
Gloria had dropped the phone onto the cradle and now held Eva against her. Eva shook, suddenly exhausted.
“I’m going to bed, Mama. I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
Gloria nodded and released her daughter, stroking her hair as she fought back tears. Eva dragged herself to Daniel’s bedroom and climbed between the sheets. The smell of him enveloped her and her tears began to soak the pillow.
The ring of the phone woke her hours later. The sun was flirting with the skyline, washing the room in orchid light. Eva lay still, willing the ringing to stop, but it persisted. She walked across the room to the phone and answered it in a groggy voice.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mrs. Rodriguez?”
“What? Oh, um, no, this is her daughter. Can I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Detective Reynolds—"
The rest of his sentence was forgotten as Eva screamed for Gloria.
“Hello? This is Gloria Rodriguez,” Gloria answered the phone.
Eva sat on the bed next to her, straining to hear the detective’s voice. Tears sprang to Gloria’s eyes.
“No, no, that can’t be right.”
“What, Mama?”
Gloria patted Eva’s leg to quiet her.
“Of course. Goodbye.”
She hung up the phone and covered her mouth with her hands.
“What is it, Mama? What’s wrong?”
Gloria shook her head and stood, brushing the tears from her cheeks.
“Go answ
er the door when the bell rings, ok, Honey?”
She walked across the room into her bathroom and shut the door. Eva watched her, her heart constricting painfully.
An hour later the living room was crowded with police officers. Gloria dug through Daniel’s room, looking for a soda can or stray flatware so the officers could take DNA. Eva sat on the sofa in the sunroom, wrapped in the olive-green blanket and holding the photograph that had been found in his drawer. The words of the officers were repeating in her mind, louder and louder until she could only hear them.
We have found evidence of another murder. We need DNA to prove whether it is your son.
Eva overheard the detective tell an insisting Gloria that a woman walking her dog early that morning had found a frayed rope hanging from a tree; beneath it, a pool of blood. There was no body, he assured Gloria, they had searched thoroughly. But there was enough blood to give doubt of the victim’s survival. They needed samples of his saliva to compare with the blood. They left soon after retrieving a juice can from under Daniel’s bed. Eva watched them leave through the sunroom window, dread sinking in her stomach.
Branches clawed at Eva’s cheeks as she ran. Her feet sank in the soft undergrowth and fallen leaves of the woods but she kept running, wrapped in the olive blanket. The sky above her was growing dark but she didn’t care. Tears flowed like acid across her skin and sobs choked her every breath. Dead. Daniel was dead. They had returned that afternoon to tell Gloria and Eva that the DNA matched. Those men in the pristine white uniforms. Unfeeling when they told them that there were two different bloods in the pool. Daniel’s…and a deer’s.
Eva’s legs burned as she ran but she ignored it. She needed to be at the warehouse. To feel Daniel near her one more time. When Eva reached the dilapidated building, she collapsed to the ground, the blanket tangling under her. She lay there sobbing, screaming into the damp earth. Then she noticed the door was ajar. She dragged herself to her feet and approached the door. A warm glow poured from the gap. Eva pushed the door further open and stepped inside. The blanket fell from her shoulders and a gasp from her lips.
