by L M Lacee
Standing Eric once more cast his eyes over the body, he had to admire Peyton’s shot. She had hit him right between the eyes. From the angle of the entry wound, he judged it to be luck rather than skill. A small part of him wondered if it was divine intervention that had guided his granddaughter’s hand.
As he stared around at the depressing motel room with its stink of blood, vomit and piss. He felt the anger that lived in his heart for the one he called daughter solidify and turn black. Why his sweet little Clementine had turned out this way, he did not know. He guessed evil was just plain evil, as the good book said, because nothing else made sense.
His mind automatically snapped into trooper mode as he looked critically at the crime scene. Noting the telltale signs that would easily be picked up by a professional and point to Peyton being the perpetrator. With tears in his eyes for what he was about to do, he went about creating a crime scene, which would frame his daughter for murder. Finally he went to where his daughter lay passed out between the beds and as he wiped his and Peyton’s fingerprints off the gun. He hung his head and prayed for forgiveness. Then he placed the gun in his daughter’s limp hand and curled her fingers around the grip. Opening her celltex, he tapped in a code his friend had given him, which allowed him to erase the call Peyton had made to him. Then he erased his fingerprints, and Peyton’s from the celltex and slid it under the bed.
He stared at his daughter for a minute and cursed again at his own cowardice. Perhaps if he and Sandra had not been so terrified to demand Clementine give Peyton to them, this would not have happened. Over the last six months, they had not pushed her for information about who Peyton’s father was or why her birth was not recorded anywhere. He had known Clementine would never tell him if he had been foolish enough to ask. And now she definitely wouldn’t, after she discovered he would not help her escape what was to come.
Looking at his daughter he realized the answers no longer mattered and from this night on, he would not have to worry that Clementine would take Peyton away. Tonight she had shown how far she had slid into the devil’s hands. He finally admitted he did not love this woman who was his daughter. The only reason Clementine was here was her fear of falling ill with the Virus. He knew she would never have brought Peyton to him and Sandra if not for that.
Ruefully, he acknowledged he had pretended Clementine was the daughter he once knew for his Sandra’s sanity, after all that was what a husband did. But this he could not pretend away. Clementine had crossed a line in which there was no coming back from; she had made her daughter kill. For that alone he would never forgive her, for everything else he just wanted her to disappear. His heart hardened at the horrific thought of what he must do, because he knew he could and would make that happen. In his time as a trooper he had collected enough favours from people to accomplish what he needed done.
Shaking his head in resignation, he kissed the cold cheek of a woman he never knew and did not want to know and said his last goodbye. Then carefully walked outside to the new love of his life and called the authorities.
TWO:
Age Eight to Ten.
The day the news came of Clementine St. Hill’s death at the hands of an inmate, was received with very few tears and heartfelt relief. It was three years since that fateful night which had changed not only Peyton’s life but her grandparent’s lives.
Eric and Sandra St. Hill cherished every moment with their granddaughter; she was enchanting, grateful, loving and funny. She excelled in academics and failed terribly at athletics. If blindfolded, she could disassemble and reassemble any appliance within minutes. She understood computer technology far beyond her years.
In her tenth year, the government passed a law stating that all children had to be tested for exceptional intelligence and abilities. The Virus was waning, but the governments were still fearful another outbreak could happen at any time. The need for scientists was desperate, sadly too many had perished in the first outbreak. It had come to the point the governments and corporations were willing to take anyone with scientific aptitude, regardless of age, to find a cure. So along with everyone at her school, Peyton received the test and to no one’s surprise. Least of all her grandparents or teachers, it proved her I.Q. was far beyond her age.
Within days of taking the test, Peyton’s grandparents were inundated with requests for her to sign with research institutes and private companies. The credits they were offered to hand guardianship of Peyton over to them were staggering.
Universities and government agencies also came hunting for her, only to be turned away by Eric. He would not allow his girl to leave his home, she was where she belonged, with him and her grandmother. Unfortunately, not everyone saw it the same way.
After they declined the offers, came the threats. Eric added more security to their home. Peyton was escorted to and from school. Eric and Sandra were seriously thinking of moving from the town they had lived in for the past twenty years, when the decision was taken from them.
The morning the government agents arrived to take her away, Eric met them at his front gate along with several of his friends and neighbors armed with rifles.
Six males, heavily armed, exited three land vehicles and approached him. They lined up dressed for war on the street outside his property as Eric told them. ‘You need to leave, she will not go with you.’
There was no reply, and Eric’s attention was taken when the back door of the last vehicle opened. A woman with black hair pulled back from her thin face stepped out. She wore a dark green pinstriped suit jacket with a plain black skirt and walked stiffly to where they stood. The armored men moved to allow her access to Eric.
She had the pinched look of an old-fashioned English governess from the shows his Sandra liked to watch. Eric disliked her on sight. Her hazel eyes scanned him and his friends, and he could see she wanted to sneer in disgust at him and his friends. But probably remembered who was watching and recording this confrontation. He assumed it would not look good for her, if she lost control. His assumption was borne out when a drone recorder came into view, the government he knew loved their toys.
She was obviously city born as she spoke in a slight accent which was not from his part of the world. ‘I am Esha Black from the department of procurement. Mr St. Hill we have come for the girl.’
Eric’s friend’s shifted uneasily as he said. ‘I already declined your offer.’
‘Mr St Hill be reasonable, one way or another we will take the girl. Why make this harder on you and your wife? Why die for the inevitable?’
Her voice was not only citified but as cold as an arctic wind. He was about to tell her to get back in her car and leave, when she showed him a Presidential decree naming Peyton as a person of scientific interest. He drawled in an accent he had heard men use in the old movies he liked to watch and watched her lips tighten in disgust.
‘That’s a mighty official-looking document you have there.’
Her smile was full of scorn as she informed him. ‘The next one gives me the authority to have you shot, and anyone with you. Release the girl, you are out manned and out gunned.’
‘Her name is Peyton.’
‘Yes… Yes, release her.’
Eric raised his gun only to have Peyton throw her arms around his knees and cry. ‘No, Grandpa, no. I go with lady. I go.’
Eric passed his rifle to his friend and picked his granddaughter up in his arms. She hugged his neck as he felt her shivering in fear, but he did not need that to know she was scared, her speech told him. It happened so infrequently now, it was startling when it appeared. He hugged her tightly as his eyes searched and found Sandra’s. She stood on the top step, tears running down her face, he whispered. ‘I will fight for you, sweet girl.’
She bravely nodded and whispered. ‘I know Grandpa, but you cannot leave Grandma alone. I be home in morning, okay.’
He grinned and kissed her cheek before whispering in her ear. ‘You do what you have to, my darling girl.’
Peyton looked at him with her serious green eyes and stated. ‘They be sorry.’
Eric nodded. ‘As they should be. You are only a little girl. They should not take you away from us.’
‘I love you Grandpa.’
‘Love you too, sweet one.’
He placed her on the ground, and she sedately walked through the gate and went to the door the woman was holding open. Peyton stopped before she entered, turned and waved to Eric and her grandmother. Then looked up at the woman, whatever she said, made the woman throw back her head and laugh. Peyton once more looked at Eric and he shivered, in that look was death.
She climbed into the car, and Eric called out to the woman. ‘Ms Black, last chance to leave without my granddaughter.’
She smirked at him and scornfully asked. ‘What is it you think you can do, old man?’
Eric grinned as he told her. ‘You remember this moment and know that what happens next is your fault.’
‘You are a fool!’ She laughed as she slid into the vehicle next to Peyton.
Instantly all the males returned to their vehicles, and the last Eric saw of his sweet granddaughter was her face staring at him from the side window. He lifted his hand in a salute, then watched as she made a small fist before the window went dark.
As he turned from the disappearing vehicles, Sandra threw herself into his arms. ‘Thank God, I thought you were going to die.’
He hugged her as he told her. ‘Not today my darling, hush now Sandra I am safe.’ He looked at his friends. ‘Thank you for your help.’
His partner, John stated. ‘For what they took her, we didn’t stop them.’
Eric winked as he said. ‘Not for long, she will be back by morning. They do not understand who they are dealing with.’
THREE:
Eric was right, sitting alone on the front porch early the following morning, a single land vehicle pulled up outside his gate. A bedraggled man with singed hair and bandaged arms threw opened the driver’s door and tumbled from the seat. He stumbled around the vehicle to the back door and pulled it open.
Peyton jumped out and waved. ‘Hello Grandpa.’
Eric rose from the step and made his way to the gate as his granddaughter smiled up at the man. ‘Goodbye Freddy, I hope I see you again.’
He shook his head. ‘No offense, Peyton, but I will pray every night that I never meet you again.’
She frowned, which caused the man known as Freddy to back away from her. ‘Well, that is rude, don’t you think?’
‘No… no, I don’t. You are a menace.’
Eric cleared his throat, causing both of them to look toward him. He felt sorry for the male, whatever had happened was traumatic enough to cause the male’s voice to tremble. Eric was positive the man was on the verge of tears.
‘Peyton, sweetheart, go inside and see your grandmother she has not slept all night.’
‘Okay Grandpa, love you.’
‘Love you too.’
They both watched her skip to the house. Once the door closed behind her, Eric turned to the male and asked. ‘What the hell happened?’
Fred shoved his hands through his burnt hair and burst out. ‘Your granddaughter destroyed the rail terminal we were holding her at. She blew it up and set the terminal alight; we still don’t know how she could do it without an igniter. As for the mag train we were going to put her on, she derailed it. Do you have any idea how impossible that is to do?’
Eric shook his head. ‘No… no, I don’t.’
‘Neither do the engineers, they are still trying to figure it out. I am the only one walking, everyone else is dead, dying or hospitalized.’ He snapped his trembling lips together and breathed deeply for a few seconds, then when he appeared to be in control again, he told Eric. ‘Your granddaughter is dangerous. She gave me two options, bring her home or she would destroy wherever she was sent too. Sir, I believed her.’
Shocked by what he was being told, Eric nodded as he looked at the front door of his home and again wondered who or what his granddaughter was. He looked back at the fearful male and asked. ‘I am assuming no one will return for my granddaughter.’
He was shaking his head before he finished speaking. ‘My report will state she is dead, and if I was you. I would make sure she stays that way. Sir, if they ever find out what she did, they will come for her, and heaven help them if they do. Hide her well and Sir, keep her hidden.’
‘Have no fear, I will.’
‘Sir, all I have is fear.’ With that he walked to his vehicle, and without another look at Eric drove away.
After a minute Eric shook his head and a smile graced his face, his baby girl was home. Making his way indoors, he was met by Peyton in the foyer and she cheerfully told him.
‘I am going to shower, and grandma is making hotcakes.’
Eric smiled at the picture she made with her red trainers and blue overalls with all the extra pockets Sandra sewed on for her. Peyton’s hair was tied in a ponytail and he was sure he saw blood and gore through it. He grinned as he told her. ‘I will help you get your clothes.’
‘Okay.’
Together they walked into her room, and as he pulled clothes from her closet, he asked. ‘Honey, tell me?’
‘Grandpa, will it make a difference? You cannot fix this one, I fixed it already.’
Eric sighed as he handed the clothes to her. ‘No, I suppose it will not, but I need the numbers sweetheart.’
‘Thirteen hurt, five dead. I warned them Grandpa.’
Eric felt his heart stutter as she recited the numbers without emotion. Her eyes remained watchful as she waited for his reaction. Taking a breath, he normalized his voice as he nodded. ‘I am sure you did honey.’
Peyton asked hesitatingly. ‘Are you angry?’
He leaned down and kissed her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘No, I warned them too. I am just sorry you had to go through that.’
‘Me too, I missed you Grandpa.’
‘As I missed you. Shower and come get your hotcakes.’
‘Okay.’
As he walked from her room, his heart was heavy, to kill so many and wound others all without a tear worried him. He knew she was not cruel or without empathy. He knew his granddaughter’s heart like he knew his own, yet she was someone people would call a monster. He called her logical, with a unique ability to compartmentalize her emotions. At least that was what the books he read stated.
Peyton washed her hair and felt sorrow wash over her. She had told the truth when she told her grandfather she had warned that woman, Esha Black. She had laughed at her, which was not so bad, but then she lied. Telling her that her grandparents were coming to be with her, that they just had to close up the house. As if she would not see straight through that lie.
What she had not told her grandfather, and she thought maybe she would not, was she lost her temper. If she hadn’t, maybe no one would have died. Because she got angry instead of stopping the train, she made it fall off the mag rail.
While she rinsed her hair, she made a vow that she would try to never lose her temper again. She would make it stay deep down in her tummy where it belonged. Her grandpa always told her to take her time before making a decision, because what she chose could last a lifetime. Peyton knew now that was true, those people were dead; all because she did not think first, she just lost her temper instead.
FOUR:
Age Thirteen.
The day Eric St. Hill left the world was the darkest day of Peyton’s young life. Sadly, her grandfather like so many men in the town caught the Virus that swept through Runnerdale like a tornado; leaving death and destruction in its wake, the funeral fires lasted for months. She was just thirteen and half-years old, and she cried for one of the very few times in her short life.
Peyton and her grandmother could not bear the thought of Eric being placed on the fires like unwanted garbage. So they secretly dug a grave behind the house, under his favourite tree, and buried him. Peyton’s grandmother
said some prayers f and made Peyton promise that if she died, she would bury her next to her husband.
After that day, her education became her own responsibility. Most of her grandparent’s friends who had been her teachers had unfortunately died in the outbreak or were too heartbroken like her grandmother to teach a young girl anymore. She often went alone to the library and studied or read anything and everything until it closed. She taught herself to build her own computer and accessed the Net to further her education.
In the first year after her grandfather passed away, her grandmother’s grief consumed her. There were months when, other than showering, she refused to come out of her bedroom or even get out of bed. Peyton grieved right along with her, but remembered the promise she had made to her grandfather. To care for her grandmother, which is what she did to the best of her ability.
One morning, just shy of a year after Eric’s death, Peyton woke to find her grandmother standing in her room, showered and dressed. Her hair clean and braided in a long brown rope down her back. It surprised Peyton to see she was wearing shoes which she had not worn for nearly a year.
‘Morning, Grandma.’
‘Good morning, sweetheart.’
‘Grandma, are you feeling all right this morning?’
Her grandmother smiled and told her. ‘I am fine, now get up we have lists to make.’ As she walked from Peyton’s room, she said. ‘We have to get organized.’
‘What for?’
‘Don’t you never mind young lady, you just hurry I need your help.’
Peyton lay back down and wondered what had happened. Last night when she had gone to kiss her grandma goodnight she was still sad and glassy eyed, just like she had been for months. She was used to speaking to her and not receiving an answer, often she thought it was like her grandma wasn’t really living anymore.
