The Gretel Series: Books 1-3 (Gretel #1-3)

by Christopher Coleman

  Chapter 28

  “The house is less than a mile through these woods. The first time I came here was the day after you left.” Petr kept his eyes forward through the windshield of Ben’s truck. “I didn’t want to go. I was as scared as I’d ever been in my life, but I forced myself. I had to be sure I was in the right place. And I was. It’s there. I’ve been back at least ten times since.”

  Petr swallowed heavily, and Gretel could almost see the memories of his father brewing inside him.

  No one spoke for several seconds before Sofia finally broke the tension. “Do you think she’s there, Petr? Your guardian, I mean? Do you think she’s being held prisoner or something? Is that what this is?”

  Gretel thought the girl sounded a too eager to be there, like she was excited for a fantastic story to tell the glee girls once school started.

  Petr shook off the trance and answered directly. “Yes, I do. But you sound to me as if you think you’ll be going with me, and you’re not. I’m going alone.”

  Gretel paused a moment and then burst out laughing. “Is that so?”

  Petr started to answer, but Gretel cut him off before the first word crossed his lips.

  “No, you’re not going alone. That might be the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard anyone say. I know her in a way that you don’t, Petr. I’ve seen the real evil inside of her. She’s cruel, Petr, and I know what she’s capable of. And believe me, it’s a lot.”

  “I was there too, Gretel. I didn’t see the things you saw in the cannery. I wasn’t the hero of the story like you, but I saw enough.”

  “That isn’t fair, Petr, and how dare you throw what I went through back at me like that.”

  “I’m not throwing anything—”

  “Kids, listen,” Ben interrupted, “it sounds like you two still have some things to work out, but it’s all kind of a moot issue, because if you think I’m staying behind, you clearly don’t know Ben Richter very well.”

  Gretel didn’t know Ben very well, but she got the impression that nothing either of them said was going to keep him from coming along.

  “Let’s just all go,” Sofia said, with a slightly superior tone in her voice. “Wasn’t that what we kind of agreed to before we left? Safety in numbers and such. Besides, I’m not staying in this truck alone.”

  “You won’t be alone. Hansel will be here.” Gretel said the words matter-of-factly, hoping she would slip a little psychology into her brother’s intentions, hypnotizing him into staying behind.

  “I’m going, Gretel,” Hansel said quickly before reaching across Ben and pulling the latch of the truck door. He squeezed between the seat and the cab and stepped out on the dirt road. Gretel thought he looked like a weasel squeezing into a gap between two floorboards.

  “Being the first one out doesn’t mean anything, Hansel.”

  “You know we’re all going, Petr,” Ben said. “Let’s just all acknowledge that now so that we can start moving in that direction.”

  They were the last words spoken in the truck before they made the tacit agreement and quietly exited the vehicle to join Hansel on the road.

  The day was cloudy and cool, and the cold breeze triggered an absent thought in Gretel’s mind, which soon grew like an ocean wave. They were astonishingly unprepared for this endeavor, especially because what lay ahead probably would last longer than the afternoon.

  They hadn’t brought any food or extra clothing, and though it was likely that Ben kept some emergency supplies in his truck—most who grew up in the Back Country did—it certainly wouldn’t be enough for any serious injury or long-term exposure.

  What were they thinking? What was she thinking?

  Petr, Ben, Hansel, and Sofia walked in unison toward the tree line, and Gretel followed unconsciously, silently categorizing all the provisions they lacked. She had the gun, that was true, but what else? The clothes on her back. Petr had a past with the witch, and vengeance provided him with motivation. But Ben and Sofia? Why had she led them here? They had no idea what they were walking into. And Gretel now admitted to herself that she led Sofia into this dangerous den because of some unconscious, petty jealousy over Petr.

  This was all a mistake.

  “We can’t do this.” Gretel’s voice hit everyone like steel, stopping them mid stride.

  Petr stopped but didn’t turn around to face Gretel; she couldn’t see his face, but she sensed a wave or relief wash over him. “We are doing this Gretel,” he said finally, the words themselves far more convincing than the tone with which they were spoken.

  “No, Petr. You know we can’t do this. This is suicide. We aren’t prepared. We can’t just walk up to her cabin, the five of us, like some band of gunfighters. Especially since we have but one gun between us. And no plan. We do this, and we’ll die this way. All of us.”

  “Gretel, we have to, it’s—”

  “I know it’s Mrs. Klahr, Petr. I know. I love her as much as I love anyone in this world, but if she was here right now, she would scream for us to stay away.”

  “That’s what anybody would do. It doesn’t mean they’re right.”

  “No, Petr, Mrs. Klahr would want us to help her, just not like this. She’s waiting for us, Petr. The witch is there, and she knows we’re coming. We’re doing exactly what she knew we would. We’re making it easy for her.”

  Gretel looked at Sofia. “And you shouldn’t be here at all, Sofia. The woman in that cabin is no woman at all. She’s a monster. If ever such a thing existed in the world, she is one. Her mouth is full of teeth like sawblades, and her strength is that of a musk ox. She’ll rip your head from your body. And you’re young; she’ll want your liver and spinal fluid for her soup. But first she’ll torture you.”

  Sofia started crying, looking like she would vomit. Gretel was purposely brutal in her description, but not without cause.

  “That’s enough, Gretel.” Petr didn’t yell, and Gretel knew it was mainly for fear of being heard, but the sternness in his voice was unmistakable.

  “She needs to know these things, Petr. And you do too, Ben. Neither of you should have anything to do with this battle.”

  Ben stayed calm and stared back at her. Gretel sensed awe in him.

  “Okay, Gretel, I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I trust you. Everything you’ve said makes sense. And I agree: this plan of ours suddenly sounds like a very bad idea. But then what do we do? And you should know that before you answer my question, whatever it is, I intend to be included. Petr is my friend, and the three of you seem like you could use the help. And plus, you’ll need a truck.”

  Ben flashed a smile that Gretel couldn’t help but return. She imagined he’d captured many a young girl’s heart with a very similar grin.

  Gretel sighed. “I haven’t figured it all out yet, but we need to reverse this scenario. Turn the whole thing around.”

  “What does that mean?” Petr asked.

  “We have to let her come to us.”

  “What?” Sofia asked. Her question was followed by a sniffle, the last remnants of her weeping.

  “She knows we’re coming—or she thinks she knows—and now, when we don’t show up, when we don’t simply walk into her trap like she planned, she’ll sense something has gone wrong.”

  “But what about Mrs. Klahr, Gretel?” Petr’s tone was pleading now, and his protests sounded more defeated with every iteration. “We can’t just leave her here.”

  “She won’t hurt Mrs. Klahr. Not kill her anyway. Not yet. Mrs. Klahr is her leverage. She doesn’t want or need Mrs. Klahr other than to get to me. The witch needs me. And my mother.”

  “But how can she know we were coming?” Sofia asked, all her earlier playfulness absent from her pitch.

  “My sister is magic,” Hansel stated flatly. “She knows about things before they happen. The same way the witch does. It’s in their blood, passed down by our ancestors.”

  There was a pause before the clue settled in to Sofia’s understanding. “That w
oman? She passed it down to you? She’s your...what? Grandmother?”

  Gretel snorted a beleaguered laugh. “She’s far too old for that. I’ll likely never be able to trace exactly what our relationship is. But Hansel’s right, we are her kin.”

  “She got the magic, and I didn’t.”

  Sofia ignored Hansel’s bait at pity. “Then doesn’t she know we’re here? Wouldn’t she know we’re out here right now? What are we doing here at all? We need to call someone. The System.” Sofia backed toward the truck, a detectable terror in her tone. She turned now and ran the remaining steps to Ben’s truck, assuming her place in the rear.

  “I guess she believes you now,” Ben said sardonically.

  “She’s right,” Gretel said. “We are in danger here. We need to leave. But you need to make sure she keeps quiet, Ben. She can’t tell anyone. Especially as far as the System is concerned. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re still a part of this.”

  “You have to be kidding me.”

  “Just keep her quiet, Ben. She can’t start talking about this.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll tell her. She’s really scared, so I don’t think keeping her quiet will be a problem.”

  “It’s settled then. We’re leaving. And we’re going back to my house. We need to prepare for her. She’ll be coming eventually.”

  Hansel groaned.

  “We’ll clean up the basement, Hansel. And air the house out. It will be fine, I promise. If we have to, we can go to the Klahrs for tonight, but I want to be at our home when she finally comes. I feel like this has to happen on our land.” Gretel looked to the ground and wrinkled her forehead. “Whatever this is.”

  “Okay, Gretel.” Hansel’s voice was stable, mature, and accepting of her decision.

  “But how are we going to get her to come to your house Gretel?” It was Petr this time, still a bit unsure of the strategy.

  Gretel thought for a moment and then said, “We’re going to have to lure her; I just don’t know how.”

  Petr’s eyes flashed, and a smiled trailed across his face. “I do.”

  Chapter 29

  “They’re not coming.”

  Marlene had been standing at the window for hours now, staring at the unmoving thicket of trees that shrouded her cabin. Her eyes were still alert, and her posture was statuesque.

  “Whatever feelings you had must have been wrong.”

  Marlene turned to the voice now, as if recognizing the sound for the first time. “What did you say?”

  Dodd held his hands up defensively. “I just don’t think anyone is coming. For the record, I never thought anyone would. Not yet. This...event just happened. The Klahr woman is here, I cleaned up the mess you made with the old man. No one would know that anything has happened yet. Maybe the Stenson boy hasn’t even come home.”

  “I felt someone, Mr. Dodd. I don’t know who it was, but they were close. And now...well, I said they were coming. I told you that. Did I not tell you that?”

  “Yes, you did. That’s why I said your feelings must have been wrong. No one is here.”

  At any other time in Marlene’s new life, Officer Dodd would have been dead before the last word left his mouth, and soon after, his innards would have been preserved as neatly as possible for future blending.

  But the times were different now. Things had changed for her. Beyond all the lessons she’d learned over the last year, the most important, perhaps, was restraint. Impulsivity was a curse that she’d battled her entire life, and it had cost her dearly at times. Marlene didn’t have the energy for another crisis right now.

  And besides, there was more to Dodd than he was revealing. He had something she needed beyond what he’d offered already. She felt a connection to him that she couldn’t quite identify.

  “My feelings are rarely wrong, Officer Dodd. I’ve told you, the girl has these kinds of feelings too. She’s powerful in this way. Perhaps my only error was an underestimation of Gretel’s own understanding of herself.”

  “I don’t really understand what that means, Marlene, but it sounds to me like you think the Morgans are back from the New Country. How can that be? It would have taken them at least a week for them to get here from the New Country, and this thing with the Klahrs just happened. What you’re saying is impossible.”

  “I don’t know what is, Officer Dodd, only what I feel. And through the centuries, what is and what I feel have usually coincided. And I’ve used up all the energy I plan to trying to convince you about the truth of this.”

  Dodd said nothing else, and Marlene felt the reverence in his gaze as she walked from the window and then back to the bedroom where Amanda Klahr lay chained.

  Marlene opened the door and then eased it back into the jamb quietly, turning toward the bed as she did so. As she looked up, she was startled by the wide smiling eyes piercing into her. Amanda looked spry and healthy despite the time of day and the consistent dose of drugs. “You thought Petr would come that easily? I heard you, waiting for them. You don’t know him. You don’t know either of them.”

  Marlene was close to exasperated, past the point where she’d normally have disposed of any of these complicated distractions like an old useless woman, someone who was incapable of providing anything of source. But she focused on her restraint again, seeing the larger prize on the horizon. “You think it was Petr? You think he was the reason I’ve not provided you his company in this prison of a room?”

  Amanda maintained her stare, but Marlene saw the slightest wrinkle of questioning between her eyes. “Gretel?”

  “Why did they leave, Klahr woman? Why did the Morgans leave with such haste? What did they seek?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “They fled to the Old World, but where?”

  “I told you I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you have told me that, but now I believe you even less than I did before. She’s coming back. I can feel her. But where did they go, Amanda Klahr?”

  “Wherever it was, hopefully they’re bringing back a can of gasoline and a match.” Amanda rose tall on her knees and screamed, “To burn this fucking place to the ground!”

  Marlene was largely unmoved by the volume and intensity of her captor, and she simply turned away until the prisoner finished. “That is amusing, Mrs. Klahr. But I’ve run out of time for amusement. I’m afraid I’ll need the answer now.”

  Marlene opened the door behind her. “Officer Dodd,” she called, “could you be of some assistance?”

  Officer Dodd appeared seconds later. “What was the screaming for?”

  Marlene ignored the question and directed her conspirator to the far bedpost, while she positioned herself on the opposite side. “I’ve placed a large band of rubber beside the bed, Officer Dodd, please use it to tie Mrs. Klahr’s hand to the post of the bed. Her foot on that side is shackled, so only her hand is necessary on your side.”

  “What is this Marlene? What are you doing?”

  Marlene ignored this question as well and stayed focused on tightening the strap on Mrs. Klahr’s left hand to the post on her side of the bed. She then moved down to her free ankle, using the remaining band to secure it to the foot post.

  Marlene then crossed over to Officer Dodd’s side and took the band from him, which he gave without a struggle, and finished the tie job on Mrs. Klahr’s limbs. Mrs. Klahr was now recumbent, her limbs wide, making her appear as a human X on the bed. Only her right leg was slightly bent due to the slack in the chain.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Officer Dodd. I thought we made an agreement to help each other. Wasn’t that the deal?”

  “We can help each other without torturing people, Marlene. That was not part of the deal. That isn’t who I am. I’m a System officer.”

  Marlene stared at Officer Dodd for a moment and then erupted in a cackle. “Of course, Officer Dodd, the System’s honor and purity would never allow such atrocities.”

  Officer Dodd looked down and away in humil
iation.

  “Get out, Officer Dodd. And if you decide this life is not for you after all, you had better decide now. When I ask you to do something again and you decline, that will be the end of any treaty between us.” And then, for added effect, she added, “And at that point, who knows what will happen.”

  Dodd stood motionless for a moment and then nodded before walking out of the bedroom. He didn’t make any more eye contact with Marlene.

  She didn’t watch him go, but instead, she kept her eyes fixed on Mrs. Klahr as she walked to the foot of the bed, allowing herself to be in full view of her prisoner.

  “What are you doing?” Mrs. Klahr asked with a defiant snivel. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Marlene walked from the bedroom for a moment and then returned with a small saucepan and something that resembled a large baby rattle, only it was metal and had small openings on the bulb.

  “What is that?”

  “Which?”

  “That metal thing in your hand.”

  “Ah, this. This is called a lead sprinkler.”

  “What is it for?”

  Marlene wrinkled her face in bemusement. “It’s for torture, Mrs. Klahr.”

  Marlene removed a small clasp in the middle of the bulb and folded the top half back on its tiny hinges. She then picked up the saucepan and poured two or three tablespoons of boiling oil into the bottom portion of the bulb before folding the top half shut and re-clasping the whole thing tightly. The smell of the burning oil on the lead brought Marlene back to her childhood, though the memory was without place or context.

  “I told you, I don’t know!” Mrs. Klahr screamed. “I don’t know where they went!”

  “We shall see, won’t we?”

  Marlene held the lead sprinkler up and out slightly as she walked next to the side of the bed, stopping near Mrs. Klahr’s midsection. She might have been a magician, she thought to herself, holding the magic wand above her assistant in preparation for the ensuing trick.