“A fine final act if I do say so myself,” he chuckled. “But it will make no difference in your end. Your wiles may have swayed Phil, but I’m a bit choosier.”
“Choosier? You would have kissed a garbage can if it showed you any attention. Maybe not even then.”
He chuckled along with me. “Maybe. Maybe, indeed.”
Stepping toward me, the grim smile on his face edged ever higher, splitting his cheeks. Then, it dropped. Horror masked his sick glee, then indignation. From the tip of his clawed toe, he turned grey, stone taking over the bones and the tatters of flesh making up his limbs.
“No. No!” He tried in vain to step closer. “Eden!”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Goodbye, Greg.”
And then all that was left of Gregory, was a stone beast.
22. Amaryllis
I hardly remembered how to move.
It would’ve made sense that we beat it before anyone gathered up the courage to open the doors and see us near a statue of a reptilian beast. If I were capable of coherent thought, I would’ve taken Lily and dragged her through the window.
In this true reality, I knelt beside the cot, fingers playing through the dimming locks of blonde hair that fell over Phil’s forehead. The blood had long since dried, painting his grey skin vivid red. Uncaring of the stain, I pressed my lips to his forehead.
Could you have loved me?
Pain I’d never known pierced my heart. As the words whispered through my mind, I laid my head on the bed, murmuring in his ear, “I love you. I will always love you.” Even if he couldn’t hear me.
Even if he never would.
The girl at my back made no attempt to speak. From time to time, her hand would fall on my shoulder, brushing soothing circles into my skin, but she never said a word. Not in condolence, not in grief, not even to push me toward escape.
I was grateful to her for it. And for so much else it seemed. I owed my life to Lily now, even if I couldn’t fathom what she’d saved when she came to my rescue.
I lived to walk the Earth another day, but what could I offer now?
“Lily?”
“Hmm?”
Searching for a glimmer of life in the dead eyes on the cot, I breathed, “What happens now?”
She sighed, peeling her hand away and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I have found the only option is to continue.”
The pain tore through my chest with such ferocity, it ripped the breath from my lungs. “I don’t want to.”
Grey eyes burned through my forehead. “You would die now?”
I didn’t reply. To disagree would be a lie but to nod, to Lily who’d suffered so much, felt almost as bad.
“I wish you would’ve realized that when Gregory would’ve done it. At least he would’ve returned Phil.”
I scowled, recalling pretty words she’d spouted about Phil’s wishes. “Why haven’t you killed me, then? Because you can’t?”
“If Phil had wanted to live, he would’ve.” She lifted his shirt to survey the work of the buckshot. “He would’ve heard that bullet coming. He could’ve moved.” The look she shot me could’ve turned me to stone. “Unless he did.”
“What are you implying?”
“He had two options. To move into the way or to move out of the way. What reason could he have had to do what he did?” In a gesture of comfort I didn’t know her capable of, she took my hand. “He took it for you. And you can sit here and say you don’t want to.”
I chewed on my tongue. “How am I supposed to do it?” All I ever brought was pain. To Zach. To my parents and their business. Now, to Phil.
“We could begin by getting out of here.”
My fingers stilled in their ministrations through his hair. “We can’t leave him here.”
“He’s not in there anymore, Eden.”
She was right. Of course she was right. It still took a few hard tugs to force me into motion and, even then, my neck craned to keep him in my line of sight all the way through the door.
Without a care for who saw our faces, Lily led me down the halls of the hospital, passed the crowd of professionals and patients alike that had only just recovered from being tossed through the air by Gregory. They watched us go as we clung to each other.
If not for Lily’s shoulder, my knees would buckle.
My body protested the cold. All the way back home, it ached in my limbs and burned under my skin. But the closer we came to The Garden of Eden, the easier it became to decipher that the cold didn’t come from the winter around me. It came from within, from some frigid wind that blew unobstructed in my soul. At least, what was left of it.
“They will want to see you.”
Her detached voice pierced my reverie like a needle. It brought me back to a parking lot full of people who hadn’t yet noticed us standing there. People that had called me the devil.
The people that killed Phil.
My hands warmed in anticipation, eyes surely blazing red. I thirsted for death, legs moving toward them with purpose. The need to feed sat in darkness, unafflicted by the scum bedecked in charred clothes. There were less of them now. At least I could credit the human race as having a few members that knew when it was time to run.
Still, I didn’t want a single one sustaining me.
An iron grip claimed my wrist. “It isn’t all their fault.”
I didn’t know who to cast my scowl on: the humans who’d stolen Phil from me, or Lily, who wanted to give them a pass? “They knew what they were doing.”
“Do they ever really know what they’re doing?” she inquired with a sarcastic tilt to her lip. It was the closest I’d ever seen her come to a smile. “Humans are slaves to their emotional response. They do what they must to survive and when they perceive something to be a threat to that, they attack.”
I chewed on my cheek. “I was the threat. They killed Phil.”
“How can you blame them?”
“Because one of them got a gun and shot him in the chest—!”
“He warned you.”
I opened my mouth to continue my rant but my mouth abruptly went dry.
“Humans were never meant to be aware of us. They would know us only as a threat to their survival. Phil warned you and you didn’t listen.”
I got the implication without the words needing to cross the air. Lily didn’t blame these people because she blamed me.
“It’s my fault.”
She didn’t dispute it. “Phil has given you another chance. Try not to screw it up. You need to calm down this situation with the humans. No more spectacles.”
My lungs wouldn’t fill. “It’s my fault.”
“Go inside. These people will get bored. Lay low and they’ll disperse by morning, I’m sure.”
I thought of inside. The pickup truck sat amidst the mob so my parents were inside, waiting for me. Wondering why strangers lurked in our parking lot. They’d be scared. Confused.
Human.
“I…I can’t go inside.”
“Why not?”
“Well…how am I supposed to stay here with them? I can’t control myself…” I chewed my tongue until I tasted blood. “I’ll hurt them. Just like I hurt everybody else.”
“What else is there to do?” she demanded. “I doubt your parents will be in agreement with you staying in my basement. Even then, I don’t think you would want to be so close to Gregory. With time, he will grow bored, but even he will need his space for a while.”
“No,” I shook my head. “No. I mean…leave.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know.” I choked on my words. “Somewhere far away. Somewhere that I can’t hurt them.”
Lily sighed. “You won’t stay away.”
“I’ll have to.”
“You’re one of the selfish creatures now, Eden. You will live for your own personal gratification.” She whispered, “You are not the type for sacrifice. Not anymore.”
“Then I’ll have to
do it now. I’m still capable of it. I know I still love them.” And love is sacrifice, as he’d once told me. “Besides, if I have to fight every day to stay away, I will. But it’s… it’s what I have to do.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t have a choice.” With a semi-hysterical chuckle, I continued, “What good am I to them now?”
Lily nodded. “We’ll go together.”
“You don’t have to—”
“What is left for me here?” She pointed to the store. “Say your goodbyes. I’ll find you.”
As I started toward the mob, I agreed, “I’ll find you.”
When I broke through the first layer of people standing guard by our shop, they immediately began their screaming anew. Devil and blasphemer and hellfire hit me like rocks, over and over and over again.
I kept my fists at my side, reminding myself: it’s not their fault.
It’s yours.
By the time I fell through our front door, it hurt to breathe. My parents stood by the register. “Eden, thank god!” Mom gushed, hugging me. “When you weren’t hear we worried they might’ve eaten you.”
I tried to feign a laugh, without success. “Came close enough.”
“They certainly didn’t seem happy with you,” Dad agreed.
“What happened?”
I shrugged. “I said some not very nice things about the second coming of Christ.”
“Aww, did you and Zach have a falling out?”
Truth be told, I’d nearly forgotten him. Now that I had time to think, I wondered where he was. Putting on a show? Manipulating those monsters that followed him into buying him chicken wings?
Feeding?
“You could say that.”
“It’s a circus out there,” Dad commented, fingers pulling the blinds apart to catch a peek. “Would it be good business to sell them the tomatoes to throw at us?”
Mom scowled. “We’ve only got the seeds.”
“Better for us. They throw the seeds, we can vacuum them up tomorrow. Less mess.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real funny, Callum. Let’s remember they’re heckling our daughter. Show some sympathy.”
He glanced between us. “Should…should we throw the tomatoes instead?”
“No.” My lip begrudged curling into a smile. “Maybe we could just go upstairs? Watch a movie? Make some popcorn?”
He opened his mouth with a face that screamed his opposition, but Mom beat him to the punch, throwing her arm over my shoulder and turning me toward the staircase. “Sure, hon’. Sounds fun to me.”
“But we could always do that after we throw tomatoes!”
She cast him a look that had set stronger men ablaze.
“Alright, movie. Popcorn. Sounds great.”
The three of us ascended the stairs in silence, Mom at the forefront with me ducked into her side. Dad trudged behind us, splitting at the top to hunt for popcorn in the kitchen. I picked the movie, some mindless comedy that we could all laugh at, and settled in against her.
Just one more time.
We laughed as the hour grew later and the movie ended, then even after we’d switched back to cable. I almost forgot why I’d organized this.
“If that mob is still out there tomorrow, Ed, I might need your help keeping things smooth, okay?” Dad inquired. “I’ll be there, too. You won’t have to worry.”
I nodded, all too happy to agree, until it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be here. Fighting back what emotion wanted to play out across my face, I kept nodding. “Of course.” My voice cracked. I jolted to my feet. “I think I might actually head to bed.”
They didn’t look up from the television. “Alrighty, hon’, see you in the morning,” Mom said.
Dad grumbled an agreement through a mouthful of popcorn.
My hands shook. It would’ve been a terrible idea to reach out and pull each of them into a hug. Still, I couldn’t help myself but fall into my mother’s arms. “Oof!” Tearing her gaze away from the screen, she giggled, “What’s up, hon’? You blue?” Nevertheless, her arms tightened around me. “You’re getting frown lines!”
“No. Not blue. Just…love you.”
I peeled myself away only to throw myself into Dad. He choked on his popcorn. “Love you too, kid.”
With arms wound tight around his neck, I clung to his side. The stink of his hair, like mulch and dollar store shampoo, had never smelled so appealing. I breathed it in for as long as he allowed me to. As he stirred, I reared back to hold him at arm’s length. “I really do. I love you. So much.”
They locked eyes with wary smiles. “Is something up, D?”
Mom’s hand met my back. “You’re being a little weird.”
“Nah, nah,” I fought back what heat burned at my eyes. “I’m fine. Just…hormonal, I guess.” Standing, I started toward my room before I wiped the tears away. Hopefully, they hadn’t seen. And hopefully they didn’t hear my voice crack around, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight!”
My feet dragged all the way down the hall. I took great care not to slam the door after I’d vanished inside my room and thrown myself over the bed. Then, the tears fell, sobs shaking my body until I couldn’t breathe. How could I leave them? How could that be the last time I’d ever see them?
Time slipped by like it never had before. The sounds of the television faded away to infomercials, Mom and Dad’s whispered conversation ceased, and their bedroom door clicked shut. I hated that sound.
It meant it was time.
Giving them another fifteen minutes to fall well and truly into sleep, I peeled myself away from the bedspread and hid away as much of my clothes as would fit in my schoolbag. Tossing it over my shoulder, I crossed the room. The window creaked all the way up before it let the cold winter breeze slap me in the face.
Throwing my legs over the ledge and into open air, I took in my bedroom one last time: pink walls, heart border, and a nightstand of pictures, displaying my short life in perfect suspension, smiling alongside my parents. Without thinking of what emotional terrorism I was inflicting on myself, I grabbed an especially toothy one on a trip to the beach and held it close to my heart. On another whim, I took a single drawing of a rose.
“I’ll miss you,” I whispered to the empty room.
Then, I slipped over the edge.
23. Epilogue
The heat persisted, clinging sticky and damp and ugly to the skin even though darkness fell hours ago. It smelled of the recent rain that had come and gone in the day, a rain I’d watched drip against my bedroom window for what felt like eternities.
Time moved very slowly these days.
In years past, I’d never enjoyed such a heat as this, even when it was seasonable, which, in September, it wasn’t. This wasn’t the same pleasant warmth that kept my parents’ plethora of plants alive and thriving. This heat killed. Still, I yearned to feel at least some of it settle under my skin and comfort my aching bones.
Just like any other time the thought of my parents surfaced in my mind, the Fade seized my sight, turning it a haze of grey. My arms flailed for anything that might save me from hitting the ground as my knees buckled beneath me. Every fabric of my innards throbbed, wishing to expel what little canned pasta I’d forced down my throat into the grass.
It was better that I stayed far away. After all, we’d only left for them, now hidden somewhere in the backwoods of Virginia. My only solace came that at least Mom and Dad would be safe from Gregory so long as he looked for me.
I picked myself back up once the haze retreated and the view of stars and rich brown tree trunks returned. It made no difference to yearn for such things. No matter how hot it got, or wet, or dry, I never felt anything more or less than the cold.
I passed Lily’s window on my way toward the backyard and couldn’t help myself a single glance in at the girl. She slept atop the blankets, impervious to the warmth that came with the bed linens, just like I was. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in sle
ep. Another nightmare.
The clouds had dispersed, offering us some reprieve from grey, if not on the inside than on the out. Her skin looked even paler in the dim light of the full moon shining down on our new ‘home,’ or hospice, if you looked at it the way I did. Pain accompanied every breath I took now that the Fade had taken me fully in its grip.
Lily was worse.
She still looked beautiful, she would always look beautiful; that didn’t change the fact that with every passing day, she moved slower. She ate less. Her stare would shift often from melancholy into a daze, as though she’d fallen asleep with eyes still open.
I wasn’t sure what I looked for when I peered through her window. Did I hope that she would be lying in bed, breathing heavily as she did now while memories of her beloved wreaked havoc on her already frail mental state? Or did I hope that I would look in to find her still? Did I hope that her torment would end?
I should’ve. That would’ve been the selfless thing to do. I knew Lily begged for death in her moments alone and she deserved relief after these years alone.
But I was a selfish person. Death approached like a derailed freight train, cold and grey and painful. And I was afraid.
Afraid that being what I was would mean an eternity of punishment, if not an eternity of nothingness. Until I saw it for myself, there really was no definitive argument that I’d be going anywhere at all. At least so long as Lily suffered beside me, I didn’t suffer alone.
Averting my eyes, I started down the pathway toward the tree line, of which we had an abundance in our most recent accommodations. From what I could guess, it seemed like a hunting cabin, populated with very little furniture, the stink of old meat, and a layer of dust. Clearly, its true owner didn’t spend much time here. We’d staked our claim in June and hadn’t heard a whisper, not from him and not from any passersby. I wondered if the place even had an address.
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