The Culling (Book 1): Splinter Skill

by Bell, A. C.

"Sorry, I don't know how much blood you've lost. I'll get you a new scarf." Shivering made it difficult to keep my grip. I squeezed as much water out of the fabric as I could and pressed it to his head.

  Peter waved a dismissive hand and held it to his head himself. "Forget the scarf. What about your car?" Wailing sirens caught our attention in the distance. Someone had called the police.

  My throat tightened. I'd been trying not to think about Farrah. If there was any justice, my insurance would pay for at least most of the damage if the police couldn't find who'd hit us and make them pay. Right now, though, Peter was more important. I'd nearly gotten him killed. I fell to the ground beside him.

  "I’m sorry, Peter. I’m sorry." My breathing became raspy, eyes welling anew, and no more words would squeeze out.

  Peter gently tugged me into a side hug, his hand tangled in the mess of wet hair on my back. "It's okay," he muttered. I almost couldn't hear him over the sirens, which were now very close. Red and blue lights began to flash across the black surface of the water. Car doors opened. "We're down here!" I called out. I helped Peter stand again, letting him lean on me for support as we treaded carefully up the hill. Two officers rushed toward us.

  "I'm okay, but he cut his head," I said. The first, a red-headed tall woman, moved to help Peter to a waiting ambulance. Once Peter had moved out of my space, I began to shiver anew in the absence of his body heat. The red-headed officer, Officer Miller I noted, returned to wrap a thick blanket around my shoulders. She then hurried back to the ambulance to talk with Peter. My glance moved back to the lake, shining like glass. I didn’t hear the second officer begin talking and he put a tentative hand on my shoulder. His familiar face was a calming sight.

  "Was there anyone else in the car?" Officer Clayton asked. His voice was quiet, sympathetic. I shook my head. "Okay. Can you tell me what happened?" He took his little notebook out again.

  "Um..." I wiped the tears from my face. Crying in public was embarrassing, even under the circumstances, but maybe they would mistake it for the rain. "I left work early because I got attacked in the alley. We were coming to talk to you, but I thought we were being followed by this big brown sedan. I think the licensee started with 91B, but I'm not sure. Peter parked so I could calm down and then the same car hit us in the lot and knocked us into the lake."

  "Someone pushed you into the lake?" He verified.

  "Yeah."

  "Would this have anything to do with that prank at the bowling alley the other night?" he asked. I didn't respond, but something in my face must have confirmed it for me. “But you don’t want to say anything?” he asked. I looked away and the material of Clayton’s police jacket rubbed together noisily as he crossed his arms. “I recognized your name last time we met. I couldn’t figure out where I’d heard it, so I looked you up. Your father was a good detective.”

  “Yes, he was,” I agreed tersely.

  “Whatever is going on here, I can guarantee we won’t stop until we find whoever did this. You just have to trust me enough to tell me what you know. Because if you’re anything like your father, you do know something by now.”

  I pinched my lips together and tried to blink away a rush of sadness. I wanted to snap at him and tell him that was a low blow, but it wasn’t. As the daughter of a deceased officer, he just wanted to look after me.

  "Clayton." Officer Miller returned, her expression severe. "She should be checked out, too, to be safe. And Mr. De la Cruz over there suggested we ask her about a mask." Clayton's brows furrowed in confusion and he looked to me for answers.

  "A mask?"

  I looked over at Peter, who was being attended by a paramedic. Peter gave a weak smile and a thumbs-up as if to say "You can do it." Since my phone was at the bottom of the lake in the car, I couldn't show them the picture of the mask, but I could still tell them what I'd learned about it. I would need to be careful not to mention Nikki directly. If I could avoid getting her involved until this guy was caught, I would. This guy might hurt her if the police spoke with her again. So, as they lead me to the ambulance for a check-up, I told them everything else.

  ***

  The grey sweatshirt and sweatpants I'd been given were itchy, but at least they were dry. It went a long way to warming me up. My clothes were stuffed into a plastic bag between my feet. Neither Peter nor I were showing signs of hypothermia, so after being checked out at the hospital, Officer Clayton offered to drive us to the dorm. He turned the heat up all the way. I even started sweating; it was glorious. Back at our dorm building, Peter stopped at his door and I turned back.

  “Will you be okay?”

  “Yeah. Brandon will still be up anyway.”

  “Don’t sleep,” I reminded him sternly.

  “I know,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle as he disappeared inside.

  Nikki was a nervous wreck when I opened our door. In the brief glimpse I got before they leapt up, she was sitting on my bed next to Justin and he was squeezing her hands in her lap. Her face was pale, almost green.

  "Adeline!" Her voice was thick from crying. Her arms wrapped around me so tight that I could barely breathe and I even dropped the bag and it landed on the carpet with a sloppy splat. I could feel her trembling, but she wasn't crying anymore. The police had let her know I was okay so she'd had time to settle down.

  "I'm alright," I said holding back a yawn. Once the adrenaline had worn off, fatigue had set in. “I can’t sleep for a few hours in case I have a concussion, but I’m okay.”

  "Good," Nikki muttered. "Good."

  Justin appeared in my periphery. I think he would have offered a hug as well, but Nikki seemed determined never to release me. "Is there anything I can get you? Food, water?" he asked.

  If I didn't need it to survive, I could have gone the rest of my life without looking at water again. I shook my head and swiveled my head to smile at him. "Thank you, though."

  "Okay." Justin offered a brief goodnight that I'm not sure Nikki even heard. I waved awkwardly over my shoulder as he shut the door behind him. Nikki let go eventually. Her face had regained some of its color.

  "I need to lay these out," I said as I picked up the bag, my attempts to untie the knot as I moved to the bathroom failed. Nikki followed on my heels with a pair of scissors. When I couldn't get the knot undone, she snipped it off. I pulled out the first item of clothing—my pleather jacket—and set it flat on the rim of the tub so the water would all go down the drain. The pleather felt impossibly cold, as if I'd left it in a freezer. I hoped this wouldn’t ruin it. Then I pulled out my shirt and pants and laid them out as well. Nikki brought me a clean set of pajamas and left me in privacy to change. It was a lot more comfortable not wearing waterlogged underwear. I cannot overstate how weird that feels.

  Out in the main room, Nikki had pulled my comforter down and was now plumping the pillow. I drew her into another hug before climbing into bed. She brought over my laptop and squeezed next to me so we could watch something until it was safe for me to sleep. Neither of us spoke. I think we were both afraid that, if we did speak, we might start arguing about the giant elephant we were ignoring. I don't think either of us could have dealt with that at the moment, so we didn't.

  ***

  It’s amazing how exhausting it is to have someone try to kill you. Despite my disquieting thoughts, I slept the whole night. The next morning, I found Nikki’s comforter and pillow on the floor next to my bed. She was asleep facing away from me, her messy blond hair strewn across the pillow. A glance at the clock told me it was barely 7:00. When had I become an early riser? The urge to go for another run struck and I quietly stepped over Nikki’s still form. I left a note on the bed so she would be sure to see it right away when she realized I was gone.

  The morning air was crisper than it had been last time, so I was glad I’d worn pants. Since it was Sunday, the whole campus seemed to be sleeping in. I took advantage of the emptiness and lengthened my run. Just when I thought I might get through the morning without an in
cident, I caught wind of a sour situation in front of the dorm building.

  Raiden and Nikki stood outside the doors speaking animatedly. Both had furrowed brows and deep frowns as they spoke and didn’t appear to have heard or seen my approach. Given that I was the only movement anywhere nearby, they must have been extremely focused.

  “Nikki, listen to me,” Raiden said.

  “No! Why can’t you leave me alone?” She turned away from him to go back inside.

  “Wait,” he said.

  A desperate look flashed in his eyes and he reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could reach the handle.

  “Let me go!”

  “This isn’t just about you anymore, Nicole. Every minute she’s in the way, she’s putting herself at risk. After last night, you know what could happen,” he said. It looked like she’d been crying and was about to start again.

  “Hey!” I yelled. I stormed across the patchwork stone and both turned to face me, startled. He let go of her wrist, but fury drove me to him anyway.

  “Ade-”

  I threw my fist into his nose and he doubled over in a howl of pain. I grabbed hold of Nikki’s hand and pulled her inside before he could recover. I dragged her all the way to the dorm where I could confront her in private.

  “What was that?” I asked as I shut the door.

  “It was nothing. You really didn’t need to hit him,” Nikki said with a shrug. She reached up to unclip her hair, facing the dresser.

  “That wasn’t nothing. Nikki, please, talk to me. Is he the one doing it?” I begged.

  “No, it’s not him.”

  Was she lying? Her tone wasn’t convincing. She set the hair tie next to her makeup mirror, her hand lingering on the edge as if she were holding it for support.

  “Nikki,” I said touching her arm so she would look at me.

  She jumped at my touch and accidentally bumped into the dresser, causing her to hiss in pain. She held the left side of her ribs. My breath caught.

  “Let me see,” I said. Nikki pursed her lips, not looking at me as she shook her head. “Show me.”

  “Alright!” Slowly, she gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. A wide circumference of bluish-purple stained her left side. I heard myself make a noise like a whimper and she yanked her shirt down.

  “Nikki,” I muttered.

  Nikki crossed her arms defensively and turned to her bed. “You don’t understand.”

  “We have to tell someone.”

  “No!” Nikki whirled back around and gripped my arms, her hazel eyes wide and pleading. “Adeline, please don’t tell!”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Don’t tell? Nikki, he—”

  “I know, I know, but please, you need to stop!” She pleaded.

  “I—” I stared baffled at her a few more moments. “Did he threaten you?” I asked.

  She let go of me and started pacing next to her bed, looking anywhere but at me. Screams and threats I’d seen her throw right back at anyone, but she’d never been able to handle getting hit well. My stomach clenched into a tight ball.

  “He threatened you...” Nikki’s words were so quiet that my subconscious could barely even catch them. Tears brimmed her eyes and she blinked harshly. “Please, I’m tired...” she whispered.

  She lay on her bed and curled up, facing the wall to look away from me. Even laying on her good side, her arm was wrapped around her midriff as if her ribs hurt. My eyes stung as I stared at her. She was in pain. How had I missed this? How long had it been going on? It could be that she’d simply gotten good at hiding things. But, no, that couldn't be the only reason. Somewhere along the way I’d stopped looking for signs. And now she was getting hurt because of it, just like before.

  I flinched at the memory, standing motionless in the middle of our room. I resigned to let her rest and pulled the charger from her cell to bring it with me. If she was going to sleep, I didn’t want anything to disrupt her. I then eased out the door and slumped against the wall in the hallway.

  The weight of the situation struck me hard now that I was sitting alone. Hiding my head in my knees, I allowed myself a little time to cry, quietly so Nikki wouldn’t hear through the wall.

  A thought struck me. If the guy doing this was hitting her, then of course she would have to know who it was the whole time. It was always someone close to the victim when it came to abuse. That would mean... no, she wouldn’t protect him for that, would she? But as the thought occurred to me, pieces started falling into place. Invisible fingers began tugging at threads in my memory, like the night of their anniversary and how upset she was when she got home. And last night when I’d come in, she’d kept her hands in her lap as if she was letting him hold them but she wasn’t going to him for comfort. When she’d hugged me, she’d ignored him completely and wouldn’t let go of me while he was here. Had she been shielding me from him?

  It could all be explained by coincidence, right? It just looked bad. If crime shows had taught me anything, it was that just about anything could sound horrible when taken out of context. But the context started filling in, too. There hadn’t seemed to be anything between Nikki and Raiden until a few weeks ago. Could he have figured out something was wrong with her and had just pressed for answers the same as me? Could he actually be the one who’d called the police yesterday? If so, then he hadn’t been threatening Nikki outside, he was just concerned for my safety. The same invisible fingers crawled up my spine and tears blurred my vision. Raiden had never been the one who had been sending me threats. He hadn’t tried to kill me and he wasn’t hitting Nikki.

  Justin was.

  I needed a confrontation with him to see it for myself, something to draw him out. A plan started to form, but I would need help.

  “Adeline?” Peter crouched in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed him come out of his room. A purple bruise peaked out around the edges of the white bandage on his forehead.

  Right on time. I thought. A sadness resided in his features, seeing the tears I hadn’t bothered to wipe away. “Come on.” He offered a warm hand and pulled me to my feet, leading me to his dorm.

  Brandon stirred when the door opened and sat up when he saw me trailing behind Peter. I waited by the desk while Peter sat on his bed.

  “Hey, man, can I talk to Adeline alone?” Peter asked.

  Brandon looked between us again, noting the glum atmosphere. “Sure. I’ll go catch breakfast or something.” He bumped knuckles with Peter and gave me a brief hug as he passed to the door. Peter slumped onto the bed and moved to rub his forehead, then winced as if he’d forgotten about the bruise. He looked really tired and I wondered how much sleep he’d gotten.

  “Any news on your car?” He asked. Farrah had been pulled out of the lake while I’d been talking to the police and she’d been transported to a shop for repairs. I made a mental reminder to contact my insurance company later.

  “Not yet.”

  “I can help pay for the repairs.”

  “Don’t you dare. It’s not like it was your fault.”

  “More mine than yours. I should have seen the car.”

  “How? It was dark out and the car had its lights off until the last moment. I didn’t see it either, so if there’s blame, we’re even.”

  Peter’s lips twitched. I knew he wouldn’t let himself off the hook that easily. He seemed determined to wallow in self-blame and changed the subject. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips to stop myself from saying yes and shook my head. “You?” He covered his eyes with a hand as if to sleep. I would be sure to keep the conversation as brief as I could so he could rest.

  “No,” he muttered. I sat at the foot of his bed, thinking of a way to bring up what I’d learned when he did it for me. “Has she said anything this morning?”

  I considered my words carefully. “I think I know who did it, but I don’t think I should tell you yet. That being said, I need your help to stop him.”

  Peter sat up and met my g
aze. “How do I do that if I don’t know who it is?” There was a note of frustration in his voice.

  “If I tell you who did it, you’ll confront him now, yourself.”

  Peter opened his mouth to object but thought twice and closed it. “Alright. Do you have a plan?”

  I nodded. “I need you to get Nikki out of Chemistry tomorrow by the end of class somehow. I don’t want him to know where she is. Then I want you to bring campus police to the room to arrest him. I’ll do what I can to get him to admit it before you arrive, but mostly I’ll just try to delay him.”

  Peter looked down in thought, frowning. “Is there any way to do this without you being in harm’s way again? What if you get Nikki out of the room after class and I delay him while you go get the police?”

  I shook my head. “That would take longer. I don’t want to give him time to get away. And I want to confront him myself. If you went, I don’t think he’d get out of the room in one piece.”

  A dangerous glint sparked in Peter’s eye and he clenched his jaw. “Would that be so bad?”

  “Peter, please. This needs to be over. I think this is the simplest way.”

  He sighed, his features softening again. “Can I think about it?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  9 Charlatan

  Naturally, I didn’t get any sleep again. I'd always thought that once I found out who this guy was, I'd be able to take comfort in the knowledge that he couldn't hide behind anonymity. Now, I just wanted to forget how deeply seeded his betrayal ran. Even now, sitting in Mythology class, I was fighting the urge to cry. Whether out of anger or sadness, I wasn’t sure at the moment. Probably both. How could he do it? He loved her. I knew he did. So, how could he ever hit her? Had he done so after I told him Nikki had bought a gun? Just the thought that I'd done something that might have caused him to hurt her made me so sick. No matter what excuses people make about abuse, I’d never understand. A foolish part of me still hoped I was wrong.