“I’d give you a weapon, Harold, but that creature is a bit on the small side. And, it is in shackles. And, you’re the one who has committed the offense. I want to be fair. I am a fair man. Close the gate, lad, but stay inside. Stand near the demon.”
Samuel slid the gate shut, the metal clinking as it locked into place. He rubbed his palms across his thighs as he made his way to Zei. She stood silent, her face unreadable. The knife’s blade was pointed down to her feet, her hold on it loose. Claudette’s father cautiously took several steps forward.
“What are you waiting for?”
Claudette’s father took another step, but then froze. He carefully removed the gag.
“I can’t do this,” he whined. “I can’t.”
The mayor lifted the gun and fired a shot into the air, the boom so loud Samuel nearly fell. His ears rang harshly, and the mayor’s voice sounded muffled as he spoke.
“Shame,” the mayor said. “The least you can do is be a man and fight with some damn dignity.”
Zei remained still.
“I deserve punishment,” Claudette’s father stammered. “I do. I’m a thief. I deserve whatever you see fit.” He shook his head in short bursts. “But not this. No. This is wrong. This is evil. I won’t. I could never face my family alive if I … I can’t do it. Just kill me, please. That’s all I ask.”
Samuel stared at Claudette’s father in awe, searching for any sort of hope. Harold was a decent person. He knew he was. He probably only stole to help support his family. That didn’t make him a killer. Zei wasn’t a killer either, as much as the mayor kept saying she was. The sheriff too. They were wrong. He knew they were all wrong.
Claudette’s father gave a nod to Samuel.
“Take care of my daughter. My girls. Please. Tell Laura that I’m sorry.”
The mayor swung his arm forward and fired another shot in the direction of the cell, but the bullet struck the stone wall. Samuel covered his ears. The ringing morphed into pain. The mayor charged forward, shoving his belly against the bars.
“You think your wife and daughter won’t share the responsibility of your crimes? Am I supposed to believe they knew nothing about your thievery? Does money rain from the sky? Do you take me for a simpleton?”
Samuel’s teeth chattered. No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
“They knew nothing,” Claudette’s father sputtered. “I swear to you on my life, they knew nothing.”
“Your word is like your life,” the mayor retorted. “It means nothing now. You want to guarantee sparing your family the wrath of all deserved justice, then you’ll turn around and you’ll do what I told you. Be a man and fight. Kill that demon. Fight it. Take the knife from its hands and eradicate it.”
“I can’t kill a child like this,” he whimpered. “It’s evil.”
“It’s not human! It’s a monster! Defend yourself, coward!”
Samuel scooted back against the wall as Zei’s fingers snaked tighter around the handle. She was stoic. This wasn’t justice. Claudette’s father shifted his body, his arms in a frantic state of motion.
“Mercy, please. Don’t make me do this.”
“This is mercy. Attack. Now!”
Claudette’s father closed his eyes, his lips muttering something. He dropped to his knees. “I can’t,” he said. “I can’t.”
Zei came forward. Samuel saw something in her eyes that brought him terror. He watched her lick her lips and curl them back into a grin.
“No,” Samuel mouthed.
Zei ignored him, her tiny feet gliding in rapid steps before she launched herself on top of her would-be attacker like a wildcat. Claudette’s father rolled onto his back, his arms savagely shoving against her small body. She was unshaken by his desperate pushing and swept her legs into a straddle over his chest.
“Exceptional,” the mayor called out.
Samuel was dumbstruck, absorbed in a horror that didn’t seem real. Claudette’s father screamed as he reached out and grabbed Zei’s braid, yanking it down violently. Her neck snapped sideways from the pulling on her hair, but she otherwise seemed unfazed. Her eyes fell on Samuel as she curled the blade up, hovering it over her would-be attacker’s chest. It was almost as if she was waiting for Samuel’s response. But he couldn’t say anything.
“What is this thing?” Claudette’s father yelled.
The mayor shook the bars.
“Order the demon to kill him. Now, boy!”
Samuel was petrified.
Claudette’s father pulled Zei’s braid harder, forcing her head backward. Zei pushed her stub against his arm, guiding his elbow back until he lost his hold. Her hair strands were wild and out of place. Samuel couldn’t give the order. He didn’t need to. Zei was too lost in her own bloodlust to notice. She only needed the briefest opening to make her strike. Her hand aligned the blade over the man’s stomach, and she thrust it down.
Claudette’s father gagged in pain as the knife plunged into his bowels, his hollering muffled. Samuel stumbled back. How could this be real? How could this be the same girl he’d spent countless hours eating with and teaching to write?
Zei twisted the handle before wrenching the knife out. Claudette’s father yelped in agony. She continued her assault indomitably, moving the blade up near the sternum and hammering the blade in and out of his chest again and again and again. Her red curls spilled out of the disheveled braid over her shoulder as the man’s blood sputtered up to her face with each new hit, the droplets splattering all over her pale skin and white top. Some of it landed on Samuel. Claudette’s father’s writhing and screaming lessened with each jab until he went completely limp. Zei gave several more strikes before ceasing her attack. The chains around her ankles sang as she slowly rose to her feet. She was peppered with blood, her predator eyes glaring at the mayor through the prison bars. She walked until the slack of her chains had disappeared, holding the knife tightly.
The mayor’s expression hardened. He pulled the revolver up in between the bars, aligning the barrel with Zei.
“Get the knife.”
Samuel blinked repeatedly.
The mayor stomped his feet.
“Do your job, boy.”
Samuel forced himself to find words. She’d killed him. No. She’d slaughtered him. He never needed to say a word. It’s what she wanted to do. She liked it. He could tell she liked it a lot.
“Please,” he stuttered. “Please put down the knife. Please.”
Zei slid her thumb across the handle, stroking it methodically.
“Take the knife from her,” the mayor ordered. “She would’ve hurt you by now if she saw you as a threat.”
Samuel sucked through his nostrils as he approached Zei. He reached out an open hand, unsure of what she would do next. This wasn’t the friend he’d come to know. This really was a monster.
Zei waited for a long minute, her expression unreadable. Before the mayor could scream out once more, she calmly gave the knife back to Samuel. The handle was soaked in red.
“Very impressive.” The mayor shoved the gun into his trousers. He clapped his large hands together, the sound echoing across the room. “A bit gruesome for my taste, but you, my dear, will make me a fine soldier. Wait until they see what I’ve caught. The demon of the whitelands. I like the sound of that.”
Zei whipped her head back. She strolled past the lifeless body in the cell, her left foot grazing the fresh pool of red.
“Come here, boy,” the mayor said warmly. He spoke emphatically with his hands. “I did expect a bit more from you, but overall, I am quite pleased.”
Samuel stepped out of the cell. He closed the gate. His arms were shaking. He was crying, even though he didn’t want to. The mayor noticed.
“A man should never show his tears,” the mayor rebuked. “You’re a man. Aren’t you?”
Samuel swallowed, finding the strength to choke back the tears. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again
.”
“You see, boy. I want that demon free of its shackles. Like you. But, you’re the one that’s holding the key. Don’t you see that? You are the key. Not only did the demon leave you untouched, it also submitted to your instructions. In the heat of conflict, it looked to you for orders. Do you realize the gift you’ve been given? You have surpassed your father immeasurably.”
Samuel said nothing. A wave of nausea engulfed him, and his head ached. He dropped the blood-soaked knife, the metal clinking as it struck the floor. The mayor strolled over to Samuel’s side. He reached down, picked up the knife, and cleaned it with his embroidered handkerchief. He handed the knife back to Samuel.
“Don’t worry about the Litten women. They will be well taken care of. And as far as I’m concerned, you’ve earned yourself a permanent position on my payroll.”
Samuel gave a sluggish nod. The mayor put his hands on his shoulders, forcing Samuel to look up.
“Boy,” the mayor said harshly. “Look at me.”
Samuel obeyed, but he locked his sights on the mayor’s square forehead. Away from his eyes. He couldn’t look into his eyes.
“I see the way that demon watches you. It longs for your guidance. You must be strong, Samuel. I need this creature to fight with us in the war to come. And make no mistake. War is coming. We must be ready to defend our homeland no matter the cost.”
The mayor ranted on about state independence and northerners’ preparations for possible invasion, but his words washed over Samuel. He kept seeing Zei driving the knife into Claudette’s father, twisting it hard to ensure the wound couldn’t close. It was messy, violent, savage. Nothing like any kill or death he’d witnessed before.
“You’re a true northern citizen,” the mayor said as he gave Samuel a light shake. “But I need to make sure you know where your loyalties lie. Understand?”
“Yes,” Samuel said blandly, his nausea growing.
“Are you with me?”
“Yes.”
When the mayor finally left, Samuel hunched over and vomited.
Samuel tried to ignore the dead body as he dragged the water hose through the hallway and into the cell, his lips quivering but silent. He pressed his thumb across the nozzle’s opening and systematically sprayed the cell, doing his best to guide the mixture of dirt, blood, and bits of entrails to the other side of the bars. He remained on the outside of the cell as he hosed down Zei. She stood erect as water struck her body, her arm pressed against the wall behind her and her eyes watching him in a way that made his skin crawl. He could hardly bear to look at her, but he had to clean the mess. The blood had stained her clothes.
After he finished hosing, he grabbed a large broom from outside the toolshed and swept the filthy concoction back down the hallway and outside of the jailhouse. Once the mess was cleared, he rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t want to go inside the cell, but he had to. He needed to get the body, and it wasn’t as if anyone was going to help him.
Filthy liquid dripped from Zei’s skirt and hair. He grabbed a black dress from the hope chest and reluctantly opened the gate. He swallowed as he threw the dress over to her. She did nothing to catch it, and it fell on the muddied ground. Samuel wiped the sweat forming on his neck with the collar of his shirt. He shoved the key for the cell in the lock, but his hands were wobbly, so it took him twice as long to unfasten the bolt. The gate screamed as it slid back. He reached into his pocket, his fingertips grazing the end of his hunting knife. Would she attack him? Would she tear into him like Claudette’s father? He felt like he didn’t know her at all.
“I’m coming in,” he announced faintly.
Zei cocked her head, but otherwise kept her position against the wall. Samuel watched his feet as he scuttled over to the body. He bent down and took a long breath before fighting to drag the corpse out. He’d barely moved the carcass a couple of feet before he lost his grip and fell. His hands were too sweaty and his muscles far too weak to do this alone. He went back and took hold of the arms, but he accidentally caught sight of the gored torso. “Don’t look,” he told himself. He squeezed and gave the hardest tug he could muster. He’d managed to move the body another few feet before the same thing happened.
Samuel’s eyes burned as he gritted his teeth, allowing his saliva to spill out as he clutched the body’s tattered shirt. He got on his knees and fought to scoot Claudette’s father out of the cell. He wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t lose it. He had to get the body out of the cell. He’d gotten the corpse to move halfway to the gate before he lost his hold once more. He fell backward, his back and arms on fire. He sat on the wet floor and slapped his hands over his face, struggling to hold himself together.
“Come on,” he said to himself, his blood rising. His words offered little motivation or encouragement. He’d never felt so lost in all of his life. He started crying again. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t bring himself to keep it together. He wept uncontrollably for several minutes, his mouth tasting salt and snot. He hit the ground with his fists. He couldn’t do this.
“What are you?” he asked, wiping his eyes repeatedly.
Zei watched him from the end of the cell, her body dripping wet. Her face was unreadable, an expressionless statue. Samuel had always been so patient with her, but he couldn’t be any longer.
“Are you a demon? Tell me, Zei. If you’re not a demon, what are you?”
He sprinted to the hope chest. He dug out Zei’s sketchbook and pencil and then hustled back into the cell. His heart was beating so loud he could feel it hitting across his ribcage. He held out the pencil and notebook for her to take. She didn’t move. He flipped to a blank page, dabbing the pencil’s point on the paper.
“Write something. Draw something. I have to understand. You just killed someone, Zei, and I need to understand why. Is the mayor right? Are you scared of him? Were you trying to protect me?”
Zei stared blankly.
“Do you like it? You like killing? Are you a demon, Zei? Are you a girl? What are you? Are you anything?”
Zei took the pencil and paper as if she was contemplating what to do. She waited for a moment before scribbling two words.
They hungry.
Samuel frowned. “What?”
Zei did nothing.
“Who is they? Are you asking for food?”
Zei turned to the side. Samuel reached out and took hold of her hand. Her skin was smooth and cold as marble.
“Please. Try again. A picture.”
He let go of her hand. Her fingers relaxed, and the pencil dropped to the floor. Why wouldn’t she answer him? Why was she doing this? Hadn’t he done enough for her? He wanted to yell at her, to throw the sketchbook across the room like he’d done with the scriptures months before. But he didn’t. He picked up the pencil and put it and the notebook back inside the chest.
He somehow found the strength to drag Claudette’s father out of the cell.
The sheriff sat by the kitchen table with an open green bottle and a drink glass half full of liquor. The whites in his eyes were lined with redness, and his cheeks were wrinkled. He wriggled the glass around in circles before bringing it to his lips.
“You’re late,” he said before taking a long sip.
Samuel stripped off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. He pulled out his hunting knife and placed it beside his cot.
“The body,” he said with a scrunched face. “It’s in the hallway at the jailhouse. I could only get it out of the cell room. I couldn’t do any more.”
The sheriff nodded as he downed the liquid in his glass. He poured a fresh serving of liquor and held it up near his nose. Instead of drinking it, he lowered the glass onto the table and scooted it to the other side. Samuel paused before taking a seat opposite the sheriff. He gingerly lifted the glass, twirling the liquid inside. He remembered how it tasted, and his jaw stiffened. The sheriff picked up the green bottle and held it up high.
“To the mayor of Haid,” he
said before swigging from the bottle. “Asshole.”
Samuel took a drink as well, the liquid sliding into his throat. It burned hard.
“What do I do now?” Samuel asked.
The sheriff reclined into his chair and wiped his peppered mustache.
“You do your job.”
Samuel gulped down another sip, the second more bitter than the first. He rubbed his tongue against his teeth, trying to neutralize the sting of the alcohol.
“I couldn’t help him. I tried. What am I supposed to tell them? Claudette and … ”
The sheriff lowered his arms onto the table and slouched forward, his hands open.
“Look, kid. You like that Litten girl, don’t you?”
Samuel nodded.
“How do you think she’s going to feel if she hears how you stood there and watched her father die? I’ll tell you. Every time she looks at you, she’s going to think about her dead daddy. Regardless of whether or not you did anything wrong. Hey. Samuel. I need you to understand. You did nothing wrong. You did your job, and that’s exactly what you had to do.” The sheriff scratched his neck. “This world is not all black and white. It’s a lot of gray. Sometimes … how do I say this, maybe it’s best to not volunteer facts. Sometimes, ignorance is the best option.”
Samuel blinked heavily before taking another sip. He wanted his mind to go quiet. He wanted the pain to go away.
“What do I say to her? When she asks me questions?”
The sheriff lowered his shoulder, groaning.
“Fuck. Kid. Lie, okay?” He waved his hand as if it were a fluttering bird. “You were never there. You got called away. You didn’t see anything. Put it all on me. I don’t give a shit. Everybody in this town hates me anyway.”
Samuel cupped the glass with both hands. He put it back to his lips and forced himself to drink the rest of the liquor. He coughed a bit before sliding the glass back onto the table. His skin tingled, and his breaths loosened. The sheriff poured him more.
Demon in the Whitelands Page 16
