Don't Fear the Reaper

by A. S. French

  ‘She was innocent, Cara.’

  ‘Do you see now, Snow, how debilitating and destructive love is?’

  Cara was a vision of cruelty, ugliness stretching through her skin as if a thousand scorpions crawled inside her flesh.

  ‘Whatever I did to you, Cara, however painful it was, none of it was intentional; none of it was as vindictive as you’ve become.’

  The words slunk over her lips, tears mixed in with the rain, her heart shrinking as she curled up on the ground. She wanted to return to before she was born, before all the hurt consumed her life. But instinct fought against it.

  ‘You’ve lost everything important to you, Snow, all thanks to me. I was surprised to see you could love another human being, shocked at your emotions for your niece, but it was the perfect final addition to what I’d spent all these years preparing for you. If you’d kept away from her, I never would have known you could be so fragile, which makes things even better as you only have yourself to blame for her death.’

  Cara was reaching her end game. There was little time for Astrid to do anything.

  ‘What did you do with the knife, Laurel?’ Cara turned from Astrid and switched her attention to her partner. ‘I need to relieve Snow of one of her eyes. Which one did you find the prettiest when you gazed at them? I’ll let you keep it as a souvenir.’

  Laurel held on to the blade at her side, the moonlight reflecting in its steel. ‘Did you mean what you said?’ she asked Cara, who reached out for the weapon.

  ‘Which part, my love?’

  Astrid found strength from somewhere, taking her hands from the grass and wiping the wet mud across her shirt. Part of her needed to look into Olivia’s eyes for the last time. She was only vaguely aware of what the other two women were saying to each other.

  ‘I heard you talking to Astrid when you told her you didn’t love me, that you were using me.’

  Tension fell from every syllable in Laurel’s words. Grief surged through Astrid like spilt ink across a piece of paper, but she had enough awareness to see something was wrong with Laurel. Astrid tore her gaze from Olivia as Cara took hold of Laurel’s free hand.

  ‘That was all lies, my sweet, to confuse Snow. Now hand me the blade so I can give her one final kiss; unless you want to do it? I know how much you enjoyed sucking on those lush lips.’

  The taste of death was in Delaney’s words. Something about them sparked the last surge of adrenaline Astrid had hidden deep inside her, strength returning as she dismissed the agony screaming through every inch of her. She had to decide what to do with the last of her energy: a futile attack on the women standing over her or a final embrace of Olivia. There was no choice to make. Astrid reached over to her niece as Laurel raised her voice.

  ‘I don’t believe you, Cara. I see you for what you are now, somebody incapable of love, only driven by the pain you cause for others. Astrid was right: you used me like you used your brother.’ Her voice was serene, determination in her eyes.

  ‘You’re confused, Laurel.’

  ‘Are you planning the same fate for me as that you dished out to Frank?’

  Astrid heard everything, but she didn’t care anymore. She could only stare at Olivia’s cold flesh. The weight of it was too much, so she twisted to glare at the designer of her misery. Cara had let go of Laurel’s hand, looking at the younger woman with pure disdain across her face.

  ‘Well, my sweet, I can’t leave any witnesses to what I’ve created. I thought about hanging on to you a bit longer, but you’ve turned into such a whiny bitch. Now would be a good time to dispense with your services. I can arrange it to look as if Snow killed you as well as all the others.’ Cara raised the gun and pointed it towards Laurel. For Astrid, this would be her last chance to leap at Cara and drag her into the lake. ‘Snow couldn’t help herself since she was so distraught about you murdering her niece. Yes, that would bring things into a nice, neat ending.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Laurel said. ‘But I didn’t kill Olivia.’ She smiled as Cara’s grin sank. ‘I may have loved you, or thought I loved you, but you must be mad to think I’d kill a child for you.’

  Before Astrid could react, there was movement below her and Olivia coughed.

  Laurel didn’t wait for Cara to fire the gun, lifting the blade in one swift arc of her arm and bringing it down on Cara’s wrist. The knife wasn’t sharp enough to go through flesh and bone in one go, but it cut down halfway, blood spraying out in a shower as Cara screamed and dropped the pistol. She plunged to the ground, rolling towards the edge of the lake.

  Laurel kicked the gun into the water and moved to Astrid as the rain continued to fall.

  ‘Can you stand?’

  ‘I think so.’ Astrid slipped Olivia from the blanket and took her hand. ‘Are you okay, kid?’

  Olivia yawned, wiping the sleep from her face and staring into her eyes. ‘Aunt Astrid?’

  Astrid smiled as if she’d never known happiness in her life; her lips stretched so far up her face, they nearly covered her nose. ‘Yes, Olivia, it’s me. How did you know?’

  Astrid pulled them up. Laurel went to the unconscious Cara.

  ‘She’s fainted from the shock. I need to tie this off before she dies from lack of blood.’

  Laurel removed a cloth from her pocket and wrapped it around the wound. Astrid recognised it as the rest of the scarf Laurel had taken from George’s house. She didn’t care if Cara lived or died, with only one person on her mind now.

  Olivia answered her question.

  ‘I knew she wasn’t my aunt when she came to the nursery. I’ve seen pictures of you when you were younger.’

  Astrid was stunned, not only by Olivia’s strength, but the knowledge Courtney had shown Olivia photos of her.

  ‘Why did you go with her?’ Astrid said.

  ‘Because she’d hurt others if I didn’t.’

  ‘That’s some brave kid you have there.’ Laurel tied the cloth around what was left of Cara’s wrist. Her voice brought Astrid back to the present and what to do next. She stared at Laurel, for once lost for something to say. ‘I gave Olivia a mild sedative. I needed time to think while Cara spoke with you.’

  ‘If you hadn’t overheard Cara say she didn’t love you, what would you have done?’

  Astrid held on to Olivia’s hand and never wanted to let go. The lines on Laurel’s face appeared inked from a mixture of emotions: regret, shame, embarrassment and sorrow, all of them the consequence of her love for the woman lying at her feet.

  ‘Honestly? I don’t know, but I could never hurt a child. They took my child from me; I couldn’t do that to anybody else.’

  Laurel gazed at Olivia as she spoke. Astrid wanted to spare her niece any potential bad memories, knowing how childhood trauma could screw up the rest of your life. But she needed to know what was going on inside Laurel’s head.

  ‘Who took your child?’

  Astrid put her arms around Olivia as she waited for the reply.

  ‘That’s a story for another day, Astrid, but you were right when you said something terrible happened to me in the army.’

  A river of sadness poured out of Laurel as she stared at Astrid holding on to Olivia.

  ‘You knew Cara’s plans and what she’d do to the other agents; what she’d do to her brother.’

  ‘No.’ Laurel sputtered with resentment and anger. ‘I didn’t know what would happen to Frank. She kept that from me.’

  ‘But you knew what she’d planned for the others?’

  There was pity in Astrid’s heart for the woman she could have loved. Laurel bent closer to the sleeping Cara Delaney and stroked her hair as only a lover would.

  ‘I did, but they all deserved it; some more than others.’

  Astrid knew from experience Laurel had persuaded herself everything she’d done had been righteous. ‘What about the woman in Berlin, the one she convinced everybody was her?’

  Laurel turned her back on Astrid and Olivia, her voice so low it verged on whispering
.

  ‘I don’t know who that was. That’s when my doubts started.’

  Laurel removed her hands from Cara’s cheek, gazing down at her as Delaney’s eyes flickered into life.

  ‘Shame you didn’t have them sooner.’

  Astrid continued to hold on to Olivia as she searched for a way off the island.

  ‘There’s a row of boats further along the edge and behind us,’ Laurel said as Astrid walked away. ‘What do you want me to do with Cara?’

  ‘Take her to the Agency, confess everything to them.’

  Astrid found their transport on the water. The rain had stopped, and she smiled at Olivia as she helped her into the boat. She didn’t care about Cara Delaney and Laurel Lee anymore. The only thing that mattered was getting Olivia home and her reunion with her sister.

  How strange that’s going to be.

  Astrid picked up the oars, struggling with both of them because of the damaged wrist on one side and the bullet hole below her shoulder on the other.

  ‘This may take some time, Olivia.’

  She managed a smile as she spoke. Olivia moved forward a little, putting her hands on Astrid’s legs.

  ‘Don’t worry, Aunt Astrid, take as long as you want.’ Astrid grinned. ‘And you can call me Liv.’

  An hour later, Astrid was in a hospital cubicle getting patched up. Olivia sat opposite her, sucking on a lollipop one of the nurses had provided. Astrid was wondering who would turn up first, the Agency or her sister.

  Then Courtney arrived.

  She rushed to Olivia as the doctor finished stitching Astrid’s wound and left. Courtney threw her arms around her daughter and squeezed the life from her. They stayed like that for two minutes before Olivia wriggled free from her mother’s embrace.

  ‘Aunt Astrid saved me, Mum.’

  Courtney smiled at her daughter before turning to the sister she hadn’t seen since they were teenagers.

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  Was that genuine concern she heard in Courtney’s voice or just a show for her daughter?

  ‘Why didn’t you call the police, Courtney?’

  ‘That woman said she’d hurt…’ she glanced at Olivia, ‘well, she told me not to speak to anyone, especially the authorities.’

  Astrid flinched as she got off the trolley, a shiver of pain jumping from her shoulder and rushing down the rest of her.

  ‘You better get the kid home. She’s had a hard day.’

  Courtney grabbed Astrid’s arm, pulled her from the cubicle and out of earshot of her daughter. A sharp stab of electricity surged through Astrid’s bones, and she bit her lip in an attempt to ignore it.

  ‘What the fuck did you do?’

  The concern hadn’t lasted long. Astrid allowed her sister to keep on digging her nails into her arm.

  ‘More than you ever did for me, Sis.’

  Courtney pushed away from her and placed one hand over her face.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ She dragged two fingers over her cheek. ‘I haven’t slept since God knows when.’ She peered over Astrid’s shoulder at her daughter. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘She needs to rest, but I think she’ll be fine, Courtney.’ Astrid moved a foot from her sister and noticed the dark-suited agents entering the hospital ward. ‘You should take her home now.’

  Astrid was stepping from her sister, ready for another unwanted reunion, when a small hand grabbed her arm.

  ‘When will I see you again, Aunty Astrid?’

  Astrid glanced down at her niece. ‘You’ve got my phone number now, kid.’ Then she looked at Courtney. ‘You’ll just have to get your mother’s permission to call me.’

  She left her sister grimacing and stepped towards the dark suits.

  About the Author

  Andrew French lives amongst faded seaside glamour on the North East coast of England. He likes gin and cats but not together, new music and old movies, curry and ice cream. Slow bike rides and long walks to the pub are his usual exercise, as well as flicking through the pages of good books and the memoirs of bad people.

  Find out more at www.andrewsfrench.com

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  Thank you!

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to my wonderful wife for all her support and patience.

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  Don’t Fear the Reaper edited by Alison Jack.

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  Cover design by James, GoOnWrite.com