The Salvation of Kora

by Yolanda Olson

  “No, Daddy. I didn’t—this isn’t my fault!”

  “You… brought…” He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath to try and control the pain I know he must be feeling, before he opens them again and looks into my eyes. I expect him to keep berating me, and honestly, if that’s what it takes to make him feel better right now, I’ll allow it.

  I just won’t accept the fault for something like this.

  Scrambling to my feet as quickly as I can, I hurry toward the kitchen and pick up the receiver on the old rotary phone he has nailed to the wall.

  With shaky fingers, I quickly spin the numbers to call the emergency services, and wait not so patiently until someone finally answers.

  “Please come quickly,” I beg to the operator. “My father is hurt; he’s dying!”

  I ramble the address into the receiver before I drop the phone and go back to the living room.

  He may hate me, but I don’t think that’s any reason for him to die alone, because I honestly don’t think there’s any way he’s going to survive an attack as vicious as this.

  I go as far as the entryway to the living room this time. If he won’t let me apply pressure to his wound, there’s nothing I can do other than wait with him.

  He grunts as he reaches down for his guts, then turns his gaze toward me, holding me firmly in place.

  He’s so goddamn angry with me right now; I can see it in his eyes. I have to think of something to snap him out of his rage quickly. I remember Mom once told us that whatever emotion you’re feeling when you die, if you go to Hell, then that’s what you’ll feel forever.

  “I love you, Daddy,” I tell him softly as a stray tear begins to roll down my cheek. I don’t like having to lie to him, however, I want him to feel better.

  Dad isn’t a Heaven kind of man.

  He’s never believed in life after death, a higher power, or anything of the sort. Fairy tales he called them, mocking Mom when she tried to teach us her faith.

  He made her cry more times than I can count and didn’t even shed a goddamn tear when she died.

  “One less crazy bitch in this world,” he grumbled. “When do you plan on joining her?”

  The fact that he was so unabashedly cruel to me in front of the social worker, and she still left me here tells me she didn’t seem to think my life was worth much either.

  Everyone in my life has pretty much hated me, except for Mom and Kora. And when they needed me the most, I let them down. I was too wrapped up in my own fears over what was unfolding in front of me to do anything to try and stop it.

  The faint call of a siren approaching in the distance is enough to bring me back to the moment. I reach up with bloodied hands and wipe the tears from my eyes before I turn away from Dad and go sit on the front stoop.

  I watch as an ambulance speeds around the corner, coming to a halt in front of our house. I don’t stand up though, because there’s nothing I can do for Dad; it’s in the hands of the paramedics now.

  I tuck my hands underneath my legs and wiggle my toes. I’m trying to find a way to calm down, since I know they’re going to ask me a ton of questions—ones that I don’t have answers for.

  One of the paramedics rushes by me into the house without so much as a hello, while another one lingers uncertainly near the bottom of the steps.

  “Aren’t you the girl from last night?”

  I lift my eyes and look into the face of the young man who wasn’t overly impressed with my refusal to go to the hospital, and see him gazing at me suspiciously.

  “He’s inside,” I tell him quietly as I lower my eyes back to my feet and wiggle my toes again.

  As the young man finally climbs the stairs and disappears inside, I hear the static of his radio as he starts quietly talking into it.

  I get to my feet.

  I’ve done my part.

  I called the ambulance, and they’ll do their best to save Dad, and if they don’t, then I know there was nothing else I could do for him.

  Raising a hand to cover my eyes, I glance up at the sun shining high in the morning sky and wonder if Mom saw what happened. Maybe one day, if I ever get to see her again, she’ll be brave enough to tell me.

  Chapter Eight

  “Lily?”

  Sister Olive sounds shocked as she calls my name out. I’m walking by the church grounds with no intention of stopping, but the tone of her voice causes me to slow down slightly.

  “I’m fine,” I call back curtly with a nod as I continue walking. Devyn said that he works at the docks by the harbor, and I’m hoping he can help me again like he did last night.

  “Wait!” she shouts, her voice cracking as she starts to run toward the low, stone wall that encircles the property.

  I take a deep breath and stop walking for a moment. Sister Olive is pretty; she’s only a bit younger than I am, has hair the color of freshly fallen snow, and the skin color to match. Her eyes—which are normally welcoming and bright—are now cautious and shadowy, rendering the beautiful natural blue shade to darkened cobalt.

  “Are you okay?” she asks as soon as she reaches the structure dividing us.

  “Fine.”

  “Lily, what happened?” she presses in a stern tone.

  “Dad. He… I was asleep… I don’t know. This isn’t my blood, Sister. It’s his.”

  Only, now that I’ve said it out loud do I realize how fucking stupid I must sound. Clearly, it’s not mine, but I don’t know what else to say right now.

  “You can’t walk around like this,” she says in a softer tone. “Follow me to the gate and I’ll let you in. We’ll get you cleaned up and have a nice cup of tea while you tell me what you can remember, okay? I’ll have one of the Sisters fetch Father Whittaker while we wait.”

  Thankful is how I should feel, but reluctance is the only thing that washes over me. If I walk through those gates I’ll put them all in danger, but if I keep walking through town while partially covered in blood, things could potentially end up worse.

  Looking away for a moment, I chew my lower lip nervously.

  “I’ll be fine, Sister,” I tell her softly.

  The decision is an easy enough one to make. Father Whittaker and Sister Olive have been the only people in this town who have been consistently kind to me, and I can’t let Kora find them.

  With a small smile and a wave, I resume walking as quickly as I can. I don’t have a plan, I have nowhere to go, and no one that I would let help me, for fear of putting them all at risk.

  The only thing I can do is go back to where this hellish nightmare started and see if I can end it there.

  If I can’t make it to the train station, I’ll try the bus terminal, and if all else fails, I’ll fucking walk back to Ashford Falls.

  ∞

  The screams are terrible, the growls even more so, but it’s the laughter that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  I’ve been huddled in a corner in the next room, listening to the men try to drive the demon out of Kora. Even though I have my hands firmly covering my ears, I can still hear everything.

  Our mother is screaming, begging them to stop, telling them that she can’t take much more… and then I hear it again.

  The sound of laughter.

  But, it’s not coming from Kora; it can’t be.

  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I get to my feet and decide that I need to help. If someone doesn’t step in and stop those men from taunting the thing inside of her, I don’t know if anyone will be left alive to help.

  Nightmares.

  It’s all I’ve had since this entire thing started. I don’t know why they couldn’t have taken her somewhere else to do this. Somewhere no one else would have to hear all of the things that Kora is screaming back at them.

  How she begs for help with one breath, then laughs and dares them to keep trying with the next.

  I’m afraid, but I have to make it stop.

  In one d
oor and out the other.

  I slowly walk through the hallway of the apartment building, eerily aware of how quiet things seem all of a sudden.

  The door to their apartment is cracked slightly, and I take a deep breath as I place a hand against it and gently push it open.

  Slipping into their apartment, I close the door behind me and pray that I’m strong enough to help.

  And if I’m not, I pray that it doesn’t take me too.

  Chapter Nine

  A gasp escapes me as a hand gently shakes my arm. I didn’t even realize that I had fallen asleep.

  I sit up and rub my eyes quickly, the sound of people bustling around the bus terminal becoming ever more prominent.

  So close, yet so far away, I muse wryly to myself as I drop my hands to my lap and glance to my left.

  I smile.

  I can’t help it; seeing him always makes me smile.

  “Sister Olive told me that you ran when she tried to get you to wait. I assumed you were probably going to run all the way back to Ashford Falls. It seems I was right,” Father Whittaker says softly with a warm smile.

  “I’m sorry, Father. You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here, but it’s happening again and it’s not going to stop until she follows me back home. I feel it in my bones.”

  “I’m not here to stop you, Lily,” he says thoughtfully after a few seconds of silence.

  “Then why are you here?” I ask him curiously.

  “I’m going with you.”

  I arch an eyebrow incredulously. What Kora needs isn’t something that Father Whittaker can deliver, and if he can, then he’s been keeping secrets from me.

  “No,” I reply with a firm shake of my head. “This is too dangerous; you’ll get hurt. At least if it’s just me, then it will finally be over.”

  “Do you really believe that?” he presses with a chuckle.

  “Look,” I say as I get to my feet. I turn to face Father Whittaker with my hands on my hips. “You may think that this is like the movies, but it’s not. Kora Parslow is dangerous even when she’s not…” My voice trails off because I don’t want to say the word. I don’t even wanna hear it ever again… because it scares me. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re the only friend I have.”

  Father Whittaker gets to his feet with a smile and reaches for the small, leather satchel that was sitting on the other side of him.

  Raking a hand back through his hair, he glances up and down the terminal before his eyes land on the digital time board. “All the more reason for me to go with you, don’t you think? Come on, it looks like the next bus for Ashford Falls leaves in about an hour.”

  ∞

  I sit by the window, watching the new life I thought I found, leaving it behind in a haze of autumn fall colors, frost-covered car windows, and children running ahead of their parents on the sidewalk.

  A life I should have had, but never really wanted, and more than likely is happy to see me go.

  I just wish that I’d had enough time to say good-bye to Devyn. Even though I didn’t get to really know him, I feel like it would have been the right thing to do.

  He cared enough about a stranger to sit and talk to me. He was kind, wanted to make sure I didn’t get into any trouble, and then made the accidental confession that he had been watching over me in his own special way.

  But I can’t escape the question; why?

  Was it because he wanted to know the story of what really happened? Did he care or even think it was true? Was he the one thing I have been waiting for that could have possibly made everything different?

  I sigh and rest my head against the large, reinforced window.

  “Are you okay, Lily?” Father Whittaker asks curiously.

  I nod without looking at him, but the lone tear that rolls down my cheek betrays the lie.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he promises, placing a strong hand on my thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to make sure it never happens again.”

  I cast him a thankful glance as I brush the tear away, then rest my head on his shoulder.

  Maybe everything I wanted is in the one thing I can’t have. The one thing that can finally put this nightmare to rest.

  Chapter Ten

  After almost three hours on the bus, Father Whittaker decided that we’d wasted more than enough time.

  The sun went down about an hour ago and he told me that the car rental companies had to be closed. I know better than to argue with someone who might know better, so I take his word for it as we step out of the cab and walk through the front door of the Morning Glory in Salem.

  He gives the front desk bell a gentle slap, then smiles down at me while I lean my elbows on the counter and yawn.

  “You’ll get to go to sleep in a little bit. Just need to see if there are any available rooms,” he reassures me as he turns his attention to the pretty, young woman walking toward us from the back room.

  “Vacancies?” Father Whittaker asks her with a hopeful smile.

  She glances at me, then at the clerical collar around his neck, before shaking her head and punching some buttons on the keyboard in front of her.

  “We have one room left,” she tells him, looking back up at him.

  “Great, we’ll take it!” he replies enthusiastically.

  I grin up at him.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited about anything other than preaching the “good word” on his appointed days.

  “Um, there’s only one bed in that room,” the girl informs us in an apprehensive tone.

  “We’ll take it. It’s fine,” Father Whittaker tells her as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an old, worn, leather wallet. I watch curiously as he pulls a credit card out and slides it toward her.

  Once the proper paperwork has been filled out, he picks up his leather satchel and ushers me in the direction that the receptionist told us to go.

  “I thought you were supposed to live in poverty?” I ask curiously as we walk down a quiet hallway to our room.

  “I wasn’t born a priest, Lily,” he replies with a chuckle. I wait patiently as he unlocks the door then steps aside to let me in first. “Besides, it’s rare that I get to do things like this, anyway.”

  With a shrug, I walk into the large room and glance around until my eyes settle on the enormous bed. I kick off my sneakers immediately and head toward it. Climbing on it, I lie down on my side and curl up into a ball.

  Finally, a good night’s rest away from all of the bullshit.

  ∞

  I’m stirred awake by the sound of whispering. It’s incessant, desperate, and damn near unintelligible.

  But there’s one connecting factor to those three things; fear.

  Whatever is making this noise is afraid, and it sends a quick, violent tremor through my body.

  I don’t sit up right away.

  Whatever is making that noise is scaring me too much to even want to find the source. Instead, I reach down for the blanket and pull it up over my head as slowly as I can, hoping that sleep will come and claim me soon.

  Just when I almost reach the state where I won’t be able to hear the whispers anymore, a few droplets of something hit the sheet right across my face, causing me to sit up instantly and look for the source.

  And that’s when I see Father Whittaker.

  He looks scared, determined, and almost beautiful in this strangely lit room.

  He’s on his knees with his back to me, and I’ll bet his hands are clasped firmly together in prayer.

  I watch a bead of sweat trickle down his bare back in the haunting moonlight, and just when I’m ready to get up and ask him if he’s okay, he whispers one more word, sending another violent tremor through me.

  “Amen.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Father Whittaker is eating breakfast across from me the next morning. He seems to be in a
good mood and I’m still wondering what the fuck happened last night.

  I’m torn between asking him and leaving it alone.

  On one hand it would be nice to know what he was tossing on me, why he sounded so damn scared, and looked so angry; but on the other, I don’t think I really want to know.

  So, I do my best to find a happy median and not ask too directly.

  “How did you sleep last night, Father?” I ask conversationally as I reach for a piece of toast.

  “Fine, Lily. Thank you,” he replies, glancing up at me with a smile. “And yourself?”

  “It was okay, I guess,” I reply with a shrug. “I always find it a little hard to sleep in a place I don’t know.”

  “I know what you mean,” he agrees as he places an elbow on the small, square table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. “It took me about thirty minutes to finally drift off last night, but once I was gone, I knew I wasn’t coming back until daylight.”

  The way he’s smiling at me.

  Kindness is emanating from his face and the small crinkles appear near his eyes—he’s lying to me and trying to masquerade it under pleasant conversation.

  Is he just like everyone else in my goddamn life; telling me what I want to hear instead of the fucking truth?

  The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as I get to my feet and slide it back. I’m not in the mood to pretend that things are okay, not after I saw the blatant fear all over him last night.

  “You should probably get back to Kennebunk,” I say as I pick up my paper plate and used napkin. “The church isn’t going to run itself.”

  “Lily—”

  I shake my head and keep walking, cutting off his attempts to stop me.

  He may be a liar like everyone else, but he’s still my friend and he won’t be of any help facing the Hell I know I’m walking back into.

  I tuck my hair behind my ears as I walk toward the exit of the building, ignoring the girl at the front desk who’s asking me how my stay was.

  Since Father Whittaker still has to officially check us out, he can fill her in on the details of what happened.