Banshee Box Set

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Banshee Box Set Page 38

by Sara Clancy


  “She didn’t mean it like that,” Nicole soothed.

  “Yeah, she did. They always do. But that’s not the point right now. The point is, when push comes to shove, I’d take Nicole with me over you.”

  Dorothy held his eyes but the heat was leaving her glare, covered by a lingering silence of dread. “She’s my little girl.”

  “And you raised me well,” Nicole said as she rushed over to her mother. Pulling her into a tight hug she added, “So let me show you what I can do.”

  For a moment, it seemed like all they could do was hold each other tightly. Benton remained in his seat and stared only at the floor, feeling like he had encroached on something not meant for him. The fire in the back of his neck was getting worse. Slowly, but steadily. He honestly didn’t know how much time he had left before he would be rendered useless by the pain.

  “So,” Dorothy said as the two finally parted, “we still have to decide what to do with the others.”

  “Others?” Benton asked a heartbeat before he remembered everyone was waiting for them at the Walmart across town.

  Chapter 8

  A low rumble filled the Walmart as the constant rain struck the metal roof. On occasion, the roaring wind would still just for a moment, as if the storm was holding its breath, and the soft tune could be heard once again streaming out from the speakers. Standing by the wall, not too far away from the electronic doors, Nicole tried to arrange their items into something manageable. It had been crazy trying to snatch up the few extra blankets and self-heating pads they would need to get Benton across the highway in better condition. It had taken a chunk out of her savings, while she had also grabbed some salt and a few flashlights. She had seen enough horror movies to make her paranoid about their efficiency, so she had bought some that ran on battery as well as a camping one that was crack operated. In the end, it hadn’t mattered what she bought, she still felt woefully unprepared.

  Water still dripped from her as she zipped her bag back up and propped it up against the wall, careful that her shirt didn’t roll up to expose the gun tucked into the back of her waistband. All the while, she could feel Benton’s parents watching her from where they tried to wrangle the small cluster of teenagers. Arriving soaked had made it obvious she had lied about them being in the store the whole time. Still, no matter how long she waited, they never came over to speak to her. After a short conversation with Dorothy, and an extremely tense moment with Benton, they had simply gone back to the group, intent on keeping an eye on her, but never actually asking her questions. Benton had pointed out that behavioral quirk more than once and explained it away by insisting that it was because they were preserving their ignorance. They could believe Benton was normal if they just didn’t ask any questions. Personally, Nicole thought they knew a lot more than they allowed Benton to believe. They knew something. And they were scared.

  Benton rushed up to her, bags of new clothes swaying in his hands, and held out a few dollars. A contribution to the coffees she had still yet to buy in the annexed McDonald’s.

  “I still don’t like this,” Nicole admitted, pushing the bags aside with her foot.

  “I know,” he whispered back. “But it’s the best plan we’ve got.”

  “It’s a sucky plan,” she replied instantly.

  They had been over it a dozen times already but the repetition helped her to believe it wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

  “They’ll be safer at the Lost Woods Motel than here,” Benton said. His voice didn’t carry a hint of frustration to, once again, be tracing over the same ground. Maybe he needed the reassurance too. “We were supposed to stay there tonight. No point in raising suspicions before we have to.”

  She nodded, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “But those woods, Benton.”

  “None of them seemed to be affected like me.”

  “You know that’s not the only danger,” she said.

  He held her eyes as he spoke again. “I do. And so do they.”

  And that was what they were counting on. If the swarm came across the forest too, it was better for everyone to be somewhere that they were already paranoid about. In groups. Behind locked doors.

  “It’s the best we can do,” Benton said. “Best case scenario; they won’t even notice we’re gone until it’s all over. At most, they’ll be alone for a few hours.”

  “They won’t be alone. Your parents will be with them.”

  Benton shrugged at her comment, his eyes sneaking a glance to his parents. She followed his gaze and found that neither of them looked very happy to see their son talking to her right now.

  “It’ll be okay.” She put every ounce of conviction she had into those words. For a moment, it actually sounded like the truth.

  “It will be,” Benton promised.

  Flipping her hair over one shoulder, she pulled on her new raincoat. The change of clothes and her backpack that she had tried to protect from the rain, were already slightly damp from her skin.

  “Go get changed. I’ll get someone to mind these and grab the coffee,” she said.

  They had formed their plan and they would see it through. There was nothing to be gained by wallowing on it. He nodded, squeezed her shoulder, and hurried off to get changed, with his waterlogged socks squishing loudly. Already his fingers were like ice. It was easy enough to find someone to take care of the bags in exchange for some fries and she rushed off to join the lines.

  At first, she didn’t notice that things hadn’t changed. But when she did, she started to glance around. By entering McDonald’s, she had removed herself from Benton’s parent’s line of sight, but she could still feel someone watching her. It was an intense sensation that made her skin prickle and her insides chill. She spun around, looking towards the back of the restaurant, and almost yelped when she found a man right behind her.

  “Sorry,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Are you okay?”

  The man was a bit taller than she was, with broad shoulders covered in a fur lined denim coat. He gave her a bright smile that made his eyes sparkle. It was kind of hard to judge his proper age, but he definitely had at least seven years on her.

  She offered an apology and refocused on the front of the line. The man didn’t stop looking at her. At first, it was slightly flattering to have the handsome man’s attention, but the novelty very quickly wore off. The sensation of being watched continued to smolder against her back and she found herself looking around again.

  “Do I know you from somewhere?” the man asked abruptly.

  She turned back to him and shook her head. He continued to trail his eyes over the side of her face and she squirmed under his appraisal.

  “That’s it,” he said with a gentle laugh. “I think you went to the same high school as my girlfriend.”

  Nicole glanced to him. “Really? What’s her name?”

  His response was immediate. “You wouldn’t know her. She would have been a few grades above you. But I remember seeing you when I was picking her up a few times. Man, that was bothering me.”

  With his broad smile and his gentle ease, Nicole could feel her tension slowly ease off her shoulders. But then his girlfriend came up beside her, and her insides froze within a second. Nicole didn’t know the woman’s face. She prided herself on knowing everyone in her little hometown, and that woman’s face didn’t ring a single bell. The arctic blaze within her ribcage didn’t dull when the woman didn’t move to her boyfriend’s side. They were within arm’s reach of each other but kept enough distance between them that they were effectively on either side of her, lingering just outside of her peripheral vision. She couldn’t keep an eye on both of them at the same time.

  The room was full of people and still she felt trapped, caged in by walls of flesh and bone. A voice in the back of her mind told her that she was just being paranoid, and that her nerves were shot and she was just reading too much into the couple’s actions. But that little voice wouldn’t stop reminding her of the one simple fact
that she was barely a mile away from the Highway of The Lost.

  Nicole almost leaped with joy as the person before her moved aside and she could rush forward to the counter. Just putting in the few feet between them would help her feel slightly more at ease. She ordered two large coffees and some fries. Then the couple was right behind her again; still, on either side of her. Still perfectly positioned in her blind spots.

  “Is that for your boyfriend?” the girl asked.

  “My mother,” Nicole was quick to reply.

  She figured that would sound more imposing, especially if they had seen her with Benton. By physical appearance alone, Benton just wasn’t an intimidating guy.

  “Is she waiting in the parking lot?” the man asked.

  “You know, it is still pouring out there. I was so lucky to get a spot close to the door,” his girlfriend said. Her voice went up, becoming soft and sweet, but the words still made Nicole’s stomach drop into her shoes. “You know, we can give you a lift to your car.”

  As quickly and politely as she could, Nicole rejected the offer. Her order arrived and she began to gather the items.

  “Are you sure? I’d hate for you to catch a cold,” the woman said as she put her hand on Nicole’s shoulder.

  Nicole didn’t have time to flinch away from that touch when, as she reached for one of the coffee cups, a hand shot up from under the counter. Slick with mud and muck, the grip was as firm as steel. The hand around her wrist clenched, until she could feel each rough grain of dirt grind against her skin. Nicole released a startled, pained cry and pulled back with all of her strength. Within an instant, the hand vanished, and she was sent toppling back.

  The man caught her and tried to hold on, but Nicole hurled herself around like a wild cat. She pulled herself from their grip. The crowd within the store had begun to take notice. Nicole didn’t dare risk reaching for the coffee again. She just turned and ran for the door, her wrist throbbing in pace with her racing heartbeat.

  ***

  All three stalls of the bathroom were occupied. Benton didn’t mind. He would endure the embarrassment of changing in public if it meant that he wasn’t alone in a bathroom again. Dumping his few plastic bags onto the counter, he hurriedly set about stripping off the layers of saturated fabric that covered him like sheets of ice. Water sprayed from his shoes as he dropped them onto the tiles. When he peeled off his socks, he found that his toes had already begun to wrinkle. Suppressing a spike of bashfulness, he opened his zipper and peeled his jeans from his damp legs. Bruises littered his skin. They had darkened with the course of the day, until each one looked like they were made from wet ink.

  His new sweatpants were the cheapest pair the store had offered and they felt incredibly decadent against his legs. A sharp crack of thunder shook the walls as he pulled his shirt over his head. Water dripped out of it with the slightest bit of pressure and trickled onto the tiled floor. He discarded it onto the growing pile of clothes and it landed with a loud squish. As he struggled into his jumper, he caught the soft sound of the door being scraped upon.

  Already on edge, Benton glanced over his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a comfort to find Zack standing in the threshold, but still, it was better than another visit from Allison, of course. But the expression on Zack’s face was dark and ripe with the promise of violence. Benton had seen the expression too many times, and had endured the fallout not to be instantly on guard. Seemingly intent on reminding Benton of their vast size difference, Zack crossed his arms over his broad chest and flexed. The silent threat was heard loud and clear. Benton felt as small and vulnerable as a child.

  Keeping Zack in the corner of his eyes, Benton focused on pulling the cheap, thin sweater over his head. The sharp spikes of pain reminded him too late of the damage that criss-crossed along his spine. He tugged and pulled but it was too late to keep Zack from noticing the bruises. In the seconds that it took to get the material over his head, Zack burst forward. His wide hand gripped Benton’s shoulder and shoved him deep into the corner, forcing him to spin so he could get another glimpse of Benton’s back before it was hidden.

  Rage burst within Benton, filling him until his hands shook from it. He whirled around and smacked Zack’s hands away.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Benton spat.

  Zack recovered quickly from his moment of shock and narrowed his eyes. “We need to be talk.”

  Benton scoffed and moved to walk around him. With one hand flattened against Benton’s chest, Zack shoved him back into the corner. The edge of the counter felt like knives as they drove against the bruises that plagued his hips and he couldn’t keep in his pained gasp.

  “You’re not leaving until you answer some questions,” Zack said in a low whisper.

  Still, no one seemed ready to come out from the stalls and intervene. For some reason, Zack was under the delusion that Benton would play along. Instead, Benton made sure that his laugh was loud and abrupt, hoping to draw some attention.

  “That’s not a weird thing to say to a half-naked guy in a public restroom.”

  “I’m not kidding, Benton. You can start with how you got those bruises. They’re messed up. People don’t bruise like that.”

  With a dismissive snort, Benton tugged down the end of his sweater and turned back to the counter. It was hard to keep himself looking casual as he searched through the plastic bag for his socks.

  “Aw, I didn’t know that you cared.”

  Zack slammed his hand against the counter, but the heavy thump was lost under another crack of thunder.

  He kept a tight hold on his casual air. “What do you want from me, Zack?”

  Zack’s response was immediate, and he grabbed for Benton’s shoulder. While he was ready for Benton to smack his hand off him, he wasn’t ready for the thin boy to rush at him. It took both hands and a full assault of his weight, but Benton managed to make the towering teen stagger back a few steps. Huffing each breath, Benton shoved a finger into Zack’s face.

  “Don’t ever touch me again,” Benton hissed.

  “Or what?” Zack challenged, his rage keeping him from remembering that they were possibly being overheard. “You’re going to do to me what you did to Victor?”

  Benton couldn’t contain his surprised laughter. “What are you talking about? Victor committed suicide. It’s tragic, but it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Suicide? You found in him in hole with a dozen other bodies and you want me to believe that’s suicide?”

  “I found him, but that doesn’t mean I know anything more than you do.”

  “What I know,” Zack said in a threatening whisper, “is that he was never violent until you came along.”

  “That’s correlation, not causation.”

  “You’re the only person he attacked and you just happen to find his body? Yeah, nothing strange about that.”

  Benton balled his hands until his knuckles strained. The muscles along his shoulders twitched as they readied for a fight.

  “He attacked Nicole, too,” Benton said. “She was also with me when we stumbled across the mass grave. Are you going to corner her as well? And, while we’re remembering facts, and not just things that fit your theory, according to the cops, most of those people were dead before I was even in Alberta. So, unless you think my parent’s overlooked the heap of corpses piled into the moving vans next to the sofa, you can’t pin this on me.”

  The slew of facts didn’t deter Zack at all. “And it was just coincidence that you were also there when Kimberly died?”

  “Who told you that?” Benton challenged. “What about all the other people that happened to be there, too? You know, the ones that can attest that I never even got near her? Fun fact of the law and logic, I’m not guilty just because you don’t like me.”

  “And yesterday? What was that in the bathroom?”

  “Maybe a creepy guy cornered me and started yammering on about insane theories of me being a – I don’t even know what to call this – Psychic ki
ller?”

  Zack’s jaw twitched as he tried to keep his temper in check. “And what about the trip here?”

  “To the bathroom?” Benton tried to deflect.

  But, as if he could smell blood in the water, Zack pressed forward. “What happened to you on the bus?”

  “I got cold.”

  “You looked close to death. I have eyes, Benton. Something is really wrong with you.”

  Feeling cornered in more ways than one, Benton pushed forward. “I’m sick of this!” Benton proclaimed with every bit of rage he could muster.

  Zack tried to grab him again and this time he raised his voice into a major bellow, one that would be impossible for the people in the stalls not to hear. Or the people outside.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  One of the toilets flushed and Benton wasn’t about to let that kind of distraction slip by. With his socks in hand, he snatched his shoes off the floor and bolted for the door. He left everything else behind without so much as a glance. Not even when he heard the door open again allowing Zack to follow him.

  “Okay, guys!” Dorothy yelled from the front of the store, her authoritative voice gaining the attention of almost everyone in the store.

  “This storm is getting worse and we need to get back on the road. We’re not going to be stopping, so if you have to use the bathroom, do it now. You have three minutes left until I want everyone around me for a headcount. Once we’re all together, we’ll be heading straight out to the bus. Understand?”

  “Yes, Constable Rider,” the small group chanted in near unison.

  A few people passed by Benton before he could catch sight of Nicole standing with the twins. She lifted her hand to pass him a cup of coffee before she noticed the expression on his face. Within a second, her smile vanished and she was raking her eyes over him with open concern, looking for any trace of physical damage.

 

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