The Unwelcome

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The Unwelcome Page 29

by Jacob Steven Mohr


  The room squeezed like a ventricle. “What are you talking about,” she whispered.

  Lutz’s breath quickened. “I’ve discovered something,” he told her, his face opening up like a flower. “I found the method at last, the only method—a way we could share everything with each other. Our minds. Our thoughts. Our body. Everything. Perfect communion. Perfect synchronicity, forever. We wouldn’t be alone anymore. You’d still have—”

  “You want to take me,” Kait interrupted, realization dawning like the shadow of a mushroom cloud. Her mouth contorted in disgust and horror. “You… You want to take me.”

  “I would never do that to you,” he protested, spreading his palms defensively. “Or at least, I can’t. Not without your permission.” He wrung his hands excitedly, his eyes gleaming and wild. “Think of it like, like we’re moving in together,” he said. “I finally figured it out. Yeah, I’d have a hand on the wheel, but so would you. We’d share control, just like if we were married. You’d still be you all over—the good parts, at least—but…”

  Again he seized hold of her hands, squeezing them with almost fanatical passion. “But then you’d finally see the truth,” he said, his face like a spotlight pointed into her eyes. “Then you’d finally see things my way.”

  She yanked her hands away and shrank back, Lutz pursuing her every step.

  “You’re insane,” she said. Her pulse exploded in her ears, each beat of her heart like a knock on the door of madness.

  Lutz’s jaw tightened, his face going red again. “You ungrateful bitch,” he growled, still advancing. “Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you? You feel so damn bad for Jill Cicero—well, that was supposed to be you. But I couldn’t take you. Believe me, I tried, but I couldn’t. That’s when I knew you were special. That’s when I knew you were like me.”

  Kait whirled away, desperate to escape his eyes. “Don’t you think I know that?” she cried out. “I knew what it meant the minute you brought her home. But I didn’t do anything, and now I’ve got to live with that for the rest of my life.”

  Her foot brushed the beanbag chair where the pimple-faced youth sat cross-legged, his handheld game blooping softy in his freeze-frame hands.

  “So this is what all this was about,” she uttered. “You didn’t ever really want me back. You just want to control me—just like you control everybody else.”

  “I want to help you, Heart-Brecker.”

  “You should have stayed at home,” she replied. “You came all this way for nothing.”

  She could not see Lutz with her face turned, but she could feel his rage darken, like he was sucking the light out of the air itself.

  “I’m not giving you the choice,” he intoned in a voice like steel dragging across concrete.

  And to her right, Kait heard Alice chamber a bullet in the Model 94.

  Kait’s vision flashed white. “If you hurt her—” she snarled, but Lutz cut her off with a scornful, barking laugh.

  “I’m going to blow her empty little head off,” he sneered. “What are you going to do? Kill me? It’s a hollow threat. And even if you could, even if you really wanted to, you couldn’t do it on your own. You’d have to take somebody. You’d have to break your precious fucking vow to Jill Cicero—or didn’t you think I knew about that? Honestly, Heart-Brecker. It’s like a knife swearing not to cut.” He shrugged, spreading his arms in exasperation. “Did you really believe that promise would change you?” he demanded. “After everything you’ve done—did you honestly think that playing make-believe would erase what you are?”

  “You’re a monster,” she growled. But she could feel the room closing in like a cage, the corner swiveling shut on her, jaws prepared to swallow her up.

  “I’m in love,” Lutz said. “That’s what this means for people like us. And now I’m finally going to make you see that, whether you like it or not. I’m going to drag you into reality kicking and screaming.” He thrust his hands toward Kait expectantly, palms up. “Now come here,” he said breathlessly. “I love you so much it hurts—but I’m done waiting for you to catch up.”

  Kait stared at Lutz—stared past him, at Alice’s shape across the room, out of focus through a veil of fresh tears. Her thoughts raced circuits inside her skull. She wanted to cry out to her, to tell her things would be all right, to bring some emotion to that inscrutable mask of a face, but anything she said now would be a lie.

  “I want to tell her goodbye,” she whispered. “I want to tell her I’m sorry.”

  Lutz shrugged impatiently. “Go on, then.”

  “No.” Kait shook her head. “Not like this. Let her go, just for a moment. So that I know she can hear me.”

  His lip curled, showing the top row of teeth. “Don’t insult me, Heart-Brecker.”

  “At least let me touch her, then,” Kait said suddenly. “I need to know for sure you’ll let her go. I’ll… I’ll feel it when she gets free. And if you do, I’ll…”

  She took a breath. Every cell in her body screamed at once.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, her fists shaking at her sides. “I’ll let you in. I’m yours.”

  Lutz stared at her, his face expressionless, searching hers with his eyes. A single bead of sweat moved through Kait’s hair, trickling from her brow and down to the point of her nose—and though there was no clock in the room, she swore she heard ticking, softly, as though through a wall. For a long moment, Lutz didn’t speak. Then: “Fine,” he muttered, shifting his eyes away. “I don’t care anymore.”

  Without another word, Alice tromped towards them, the Winchester rifle still thrust up under her chin. Kait didn’t need to look to know that her finger was just above the trigger. “Put your hand on her back,” he said. “And give the other to me. Be quick about it.”

  Kait did as she was told. Her left hand slid under Alice’s shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. She stroked it, running her fingernails lightly across the skin, praying that her friend could somehow feel the touch. She thought of Halloween, of the two of them sitting on the futon side by side, the entire future spread out before them like a broad white road stretching into the far distance. How had things gone so wrong? she wondered, blinking away tears that stung like birdshot. How had she failed her friends this badly?

  “I’m going to make this up to you,” she said aloud, her voice like broken pottery. “I’m going to make this up to you if it kills me.”

  “Your hand, Heart-Brecker,” Lutz demanded.

  Kait took another breath, held it, let it out. Then she lifted her trembling right hand and placed it on top of Lutz’s. His fingers laced through hers, and she tried not to feel his hand, shaking as well, to feel his palm sweating with anticipation that weighed as much as a world. She tried not to think about what was coming.

  Instead she thought of Alice—and the rest was easy.

  “You’re Thing One,” she whispered so low only she could hear.

  Then she opened the door, and Lutz blazed up within her like hellfire—

  Chapter 24

  Lover

  —and Alice opened her eyes.

  The sudden rush of sensation disoriented her, and for one heart-stopping instant she felt as though she were falling. The heady, soporific warmth that had flooded every crevice, every cell of her body slid off her like a hand dragging sheets off a bed, replaced with a focused, liquid coolness that spread through her from the feet up as though she were a glass filling with cold water. But she did not fall—the coolness bore her up, steadying her, like a friendly, familiar hand between her shoulder blades. It was pleasant, this sensation. It welled up inside her like a mountain spring, clean and pure and smooth.

  It wanted to show her something.

  The world came back, booming into existence around her. For the second time that hour, she did not know where she was. She didn’t recognize the room she was in, nor the woods beyond the dark windows. But she recognized the faces. Alice watched with a mix of amazement and horror as Lutz Visgara s
tiffened and lurched two steps towards her like a mismade, shambling corpse, then toppled forward, his eyes going lightless, collapsing to the carpeted floor where his body bounced with a muffled thud and did not rise. Alice took one quick step back, feeling a shriek rising in her throat. She stared at the body. Lutz did not move—and yet, he didn’t look dead, not really. His head was twisted sideways, his cheek flush with the carpet, and his eyes were open and glinting dully, as though he had fallen asleep with them open.

  And there, standing just beside where her ex-boyfriend had fallen, stood Kaity, her face stiff with shock and some other ineffable expression. She blinked twice, staring down at her open, trembling hands. “It worked,” she breathed, her cheeks spreading in a horrible grin that showed every tooth. “Oh, Jesus—it worked.” She clapped her hands over her mouth, twirling giddily in place as though admiring herself in a mirror. “Oh, this is gonna be good for us, Heart-Brecker,” she giggled in a voice that did not seem to belong to her at all. “You’ll see. Once you get used to the custody arrangement, I’m sure you’ll…”

  Then she froze. Her body stiffened like Lutz’s had stiffened, only she didn’t fall. She stared down at the limp body on the carpet, her mouth opening and shutting, the look of joy and disbelief on her features melting away, contorting into horror.

  “What’ve you done,” she whispered, her eyes swiveling toward Alice. “Heart-Brecker… What’ve you done?”

  And it was Alice’s own voice that answered.

  “I made a choice,” she said, without even thinking the words. They seemed to pour from her lips, the natural extension of the liquid coolness trickling down inside her. With a jolt, she realized she was still holding the gun. The weapon seemed to squirm in her grip, alive and dangerous, but quickly her hands took over, moving without her instruction, swinging the big hunting rifle around and slotting the stock into her shoulder joint with near-inhuman precision. Her fingers moved blindly along the weapon’s length, slipping through the trigger guard, and her eye lowered to the ironsights, squinting down the length of the muzzle.

  It was pointed straight at Kaity’s heart.

  “I made a choice,” she repeated. “And I chose her.”

  Panic splashed across her like ice water. She struck out blindly, struggling against the cold, alien thing moving within her, recoiling from the nightmare playing out before her very eyes. But then she stopped. She stopped and she waited and she listened. There was somebody else there with her. The cold, liquid movements, they had a consciousness—like the warmth that had fled before. Something she could feel, something she could touch the surface of with her own mind. And when it spoke to her, it didn’t whisper like the warmth had whispered.

  Don’t worry, Alice, it said in a dark, clear voice that was almost familiar to her. I’ll take things from here. I know what I’m doing.

  For a moment, Alice was too stunned to reply. But then she asked, in a voice that echoed off the walls of her innermost self: “…Kaity?”

  And the little voice inside her laughed ruefully.

  Yes, it said fondly—and a little sadly as well. Something like that.

  And then the rest poured out, before Alice could even think to answer.

  I don’t expect you to understand, the voice of her dearest friend said. Maybe it’s better like that. I don’t really understand it myself. But, Alice, you can’t imagine how sorry I am that I never told you. You always trusted me—but now, I’ve put you in danger, and I’ve got to fix it. I’ve got to do something I swore I’d never do again. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me now, but I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I promise this’ll all be over soon.

  “Kaity…”

  Remember that I love you, Alice. No matter what happens next, remember that.

  “Kaity, don’t—”

  Remember—and the rest will be easy…

  Then Alice’s mouth moved, and her faraway voice came tumbling out once more.

  “Goodbye, Lutz Visgara.”

  Kaity gawped. A host of indescribable emotions fluttered across her features—then she opened her lips, and Lutz’s peculiar goatish laugh rang out across the den.

  “You wouldn’t,” her friend scoffed, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. “You wouldn’t dare. Think about it, Heart-Brecker. If you were gonna kill me, you would have done it a long time ago.”

  Then, in a slightly louder voice, “Besides. You don’t want to do this. I’m… You know I’m the only other one like you. Maybe in the country. Maybe in the entire world. Think about what it means for you if I’m gone. You’ll be alone. Is that really what you want?”

  But Alice made no answer, and fear began to creep into Kaity’s eyes.

  “This isn’t funny anymore, Heart-Brecker,” she said. “I can’t leave this body. The door you opened only swings the one way. The other one, it’s fried, inside out. Scorched earth. That’s how it works. You shoot me… You can’t ever take that back. You’ll wake up missing me some lonely night, and you won’t be able to take it back. It’ll be all your fault, all over again, every time you think about me. And trust me, you will think about me.”

  And when Alice still did not reply, the fear in her friend’s eyes bloomed into panic.

  “You understand what this means, don’t you?” she hissed. “You’ll be stuck too. You’ll be trapped in that… that husk forever. You’ll be a prisoner. Don’t do this to yourself. All right. You hate me. I understand that now. But I’m, I’m not worth it, Heart-Brecker. Listen to me.”

  Then panic flickered into anger, hot and swift. “You planned this,” Kaity snarled. “Didn’t you. Tell me the truth. You knew I’d follow you here. You knew what I wanted. You’ve been behind everything from the jump. Admit it. Admit it was you.”

  This time Alice did respond, and when she did, her lips kinked up in a mocking sneer.

  “Not me,” she said. “Never me.”

  “Just tell me what you want,” Kaity burst out suddenly. Her hands beat the air like moth’s wings, clenching and unclenching. “Damn it all to hell—just tell me what you want.” Her face screwed up in an agonized grimace, mucus running from her nose in slick lines around her lips. “Heart-Brecker… Heart-Brecker, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean for anybody to get hurt.” Her voice rose to a fever pitch, almost a scream. “Goddammit, Kait, talk to me. I… I don’t wanna die!”

  Alice cocked her head at him. “You want to know what I want?” she asked.

  Kaity gulped and nodded.

  Alice took a slow breath. “I want you to understand something,” she said. “I was never alone.”

  Kaity blinked. The two girls stared at each other, not speaking. Then understanding dawned on her friend’s features—and she lunged forward with blinding speed, arms out, hands reaching for Alice’s throat, mouth gaping open in a soundless howl of terror and rage.

  The gun went off. The world exploded around them.

  Then Kaity seemed to pause mid-lunge, her eyes bugging from their sockets. A long scarlet jet of blood twirled away from a gash in the side of her neck, followed by smaller spurts that bubbled down the side of her neck and shoulder like fondue, running across the slick surface of her winter jacket and soaking into the fabric of the hoodie underneath. She stumbled forward, clutching at her bleeding neck as though her fingers could not find purchase. Alice—or the stranger inside Alice—let out a strangled sound, and she did not speak again. Kaity did not seem to hear. Her mouth moved mechanically, her jaw working, opening and shutting like a nutcracker’s maw. She took another step forward, then another.

  “Hhhhk,” she said, pale pink saliva oozing from the corners of her chapped lips. “Hhhhk.” Her eyes met Alice’s, pale and bulging with terror.

  Then, like a hollow tree falling in a silent forest, she slithered to the floor and lay still.

  * * *

  And now it was only an hour before dawn. Alice had not stirred from the corner of the den.
She sat cross-legged on the floor next to the beanbag chair. Kaity’s body was in her lap, curled like an infant, her head propped on her broad shoulder. Her hand stroked the corpse’s hair; she smoothed the blood-stiff locks, and she traced the lines of the pale, tender face with one trembling finger. Her lips would move, but no words would come out, only a high keening wail every so often, like the cry of a bird. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks without ceasing. She had not slept. Or perhaps she had. Whether this was fiction or reality had ceased to matter to her a long time ago. Kaity’s weight felt light in her lap, lighter every second, as though she might blow away, as though she might have never been there at all.

  Dawn came at last—and outside the lake house door, there came the sound of sirens in the distance. Alice tilted her head to one side. After a few moments, the crunch of tires on snow joined the fray, and a chorus of tramping feet and shouting male voices as well. They were coming; soon they would be inside the cabin. Alice rose slowly to her feet. She gathered up the Model 94, letting Kaity slide from her lap into a heap on the carpet. She stood in the back of the room for a moment, listening, the noise outside growing closer and closer. Then she turned and walked down the hallway to a dark back bedroom of the house and shut the door.

  Chapter 25

  Suspect

  Detective Trent Ymir hung up the phone. The searchers had found another body.

  He leaned against the two-way glass of the interview room, massaging his forehead with a finger and thumb. Mental arithmetic: three on the road by the lake plus five in the lake house made eight so far—now nine. It was turning into quite a morning. They’d had to fish this one out of the lake with pole hooks after a local uniform spotted a flash of red carpeting through a hole in the ice. He was a big bastard, and young, maybe twenty at the most. He was naked to the waist, bloated from his time under the ice, skin gone all colorless.

 

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