The Knife of Never Letting Go

by Patrick Ness

  “Don’t you look at her!” I yell. “Don’t you even look at her!”

  Aaron turns back to me, the smile still there. “Yes, Todd, yes,” he says. “That’s yer path, that’s the path you’ll take. The boy with the soft heart, the boy who couldn’t kill. What would he kill for? Who would he protect?”

  Another step back, another step nearer the tunnel.

  “And when her cursed, evil silence polluted our swamp, I thought God had sent me a sacrifice to make myself, one last example of the evil that hides itself which I could destroy and purify.” He cocks his head. “But then her true purpose was revealed.” He looks at her and back at me. “Todd Hewitt would protect the helpless.”

  “She ain’t helpless,” I say.

  “And then you ran.” Aaron’s eyes widen, as if in false amazement. “You ran rather than fulfil yer destiny.” He lifts his eyes to the church again. “Thereby making victory over you all the sweeter.”

  “You ain’t won yet,” I say.

  “Haven’t I?” He smiles again. “Come, Todd. Come to me with hate in yer heart.”

  “I will,” I say. “I’ll do it.”

  But another step back.

  “You’ve been near before, young Todd,” Aaron says. “In the swamp, the knife raised, me killing the girl, but no. You hesitate. You injure but you do not kill. And then I steal her from you and you hunt her down, as I knew you would, suffering from the wound I gave you, but again, not enough. You sacrifice yer beloved dog rather than see her come to harm, you let me break his very body rather than serve yer proper purpose.”

  “You shut up!” I say.

  He holds his palms up to me.

  “Here I am, Todd,” he says. “Fulfil yer purpose. Become a man.” He lowers his head till his eyes are looking up at me. “Fall.”

  I curl my lip.

  I stand up straighter.

  “I already am a man,” I say.

  And my Noise says it, too.

  He stares at me. As if staring thru me.

  And then he sighs.

  Like he’s disappointed.

  “Not yet a man,” he says, his face changing. “Perhaps not ever.”

  I don’t step back.

  “Pity,” he says.

  And he leaps at me–

  “Todd!” Viola yells–

  “Run!” I scream–

  But I’m not stepping back–

  I’m moving forward–

  And the fight is on.

  I’m charging at him and he’s throwing himself at me and I’m holding the knife but at the last second, I leap to the side, letting him slam hard into the wall–

  He whirls around, face in a snarl, swinging an arm round to hit me and I duck and slash at it with the knife, cutting across his forearm, and it don’t even slow him down–

  And he’s swinging at me with his other arm and he’s catching me just under the jaw–

  Knocking me back–

  “Todd!” Viola calls again–

  I tumble backwards onto the last pew, falling hard–

  But I’m looking up–

  Aaron’s turning to Viola–

  She’s at the bottom of the stairs–

  “Go!” I yell–

  But she’s got a big flat stone in her hands and launches it at Aaron with a grimace and an angry grunt and he ducks and tries to deflect it with one hand but it catches him cross the forehead, causing him to stumble away from both her and me, towards the ledge, towards the front of the church–

  “Come on!” Viola yells to me–

  I scramble to my feet–

  But Aaron’s turned, too–

  Blood running down his face–

  His mouth open in a yell–

  He jumps forward like a spider, grabbing Viola’s right arm–

  She punches fiercely with her left hand, bloodying it on his face–

  But he don’t let go–

  I’m yelling as I fly at them–

  Knife out–

  But again I turn it at the last minute–

  And I just knock into him–

  We land on the upslope of the stairs, Viola falling back, me on top of Aaron, his arms boxing my head and he reaches forward with his horrible face and takes a bite out of an exposed area of my neck–

  I yell and jerk back, punching him with a backhand as I go–

  Scooting away from him back into the church, holding my neck–

  He comes at me again, his fist flying forward–

  Catching me on the eye–

  My head jerks back–

  I stumble thru the rows of pews, back to the centre of the church–

  Another punch–

  I raise my knife hand to block it–

  But keep the knife edge sideways–

  And he hits me again–

  I scrabble away from him on the wet stone–

  Up the aisle towards the pulpit–

  And a third time his fist reaches my face–

  And I feel two teeth tear outta their roots–

  And I nearly fall–

  And then I do fall–

  My back and head hitting the pulpit stone–

  And I drop the knife.

  It clatters away towards the edge.

  Useless as ever.

  “Yer Noise reveals you!” Aaron screams. “Yer Noise reveals you!” He’s stepping forward to me now, standing over me. “From the moment I stepped into this sacred place, I knew it would be thus!” He stops at my feet, staring down at me, his fists clenched and bloody with my blood, his face bloody with his own. “You will never be a man, Todd Hewitt! Never!”

  I see Viola outta the corner of my eye frantically looking for more rocks–

  “I’m already a man,” I say, but I’ve fallen, I’ve dropped the knife, my voice is faltering, my hand over the bleeding from my neck.

  “You rob me of my sacrifice!” His eyes have turned to burning diamonds, his Noise blazing a red so fierce it’s practically steaming the water away from him. “I will kill you.” He bows his head to me. “And you will die knowing that I killed her slowly.”

  I clench my teeth together.

  I start to pull myself to my ruddy feet.

  “Come on if yer coming,” I growl.

  Aaron yells out and takes a step towards me–

  Hands reaching out for me–

  My face rising to meet him–

  And Viola CLUMPS him on the side of the head with a rock she can barely lift–

  He stumbles–

  Leaning towards the pews and catching himself–

  And he stumbles again–

  But he doesn’t fall.

  He doesn’t ruddy fall.

  He staggers but he stands, twixt me and Viola, uncurling himself, his back to Viola but towering over her, a whole rivulet of blood spouting from the side of his head now, but he’s effing well tall as a nightmare–

  He really is a monster.

  “You ain’t human,” I say.

  “I have told you, young Todd,” he says, his voice low and monstrous, his Noise glowering at me with a fury so pure it nearly knocks me back. “I am a saint.”

  He lashes his arm out in Viola’s direkshun without even looking her way, catching her square on the eye, knocking her back as she calls out and falls falls falls, tripping over a pew, hitting her head hard on the rocks–

  And not rising.

  “Viola!” I yell–

  And I leap past him–

  He lets me go–

  I reach her–

  Her legs are up on the stone bench–

  Her head’s on the stone floor–

  A little stream of blood running from it–

  “Viola!” I say and I lift her–

  And her head falls back–

  “VIOLA!” I yell–

  And I hear a low rumble from behind me–

  Laughter.

  He’s laughing.

  “You were always going to betray her,” he says. “I
t was foreseen.”

  “You SHUT UP!”

  “And do you know why?”

  “I’ll KILL YOU!”

  He lowers his voice to a whisper–

  But a whisper I can feel shiver thru my entire body–

  “You’ve already fallen.”

  And my Noise blazes red.

  Redder than it’s ever been.

  Murderous red.

  “Yes, Todd,” Aaron hisses. “Yes, that’s the way.”

  I lay Viola gently down and I stand and face him.

  And my hate is so big, it fills the cavern.

  “Come on, boy,” he says. “Purify yerself.”

  I look at the knife–

  Resting in a puddle of water–

  Near the ledge by the pulpit behind Aaron–

  Where I dropped it–

  And I hear it calling to me–

  Take me, it says–

  Take me and use me, it says–

  Aaron holds open his arms.

  “Murder me,” he says. “Become a man.”

  Never let me go, says the knife–

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper under my breath tho I don’t know who to or what for–

  I’m sorry–

  And I leap–

  Aaron doesn’t move, arms open as if to embrace me–

  I barrel into him with my shoulder–

  He doesn’t resist–

  My Noise screams red–

  We fall past the pulpit to the ledge–

  I’m on top of him–

  He still doesn’t resist–

  I punch his face–

  Over–

  And over–

  And over–

  Breaking it further–

  Breaking it into bloody messy pieces–

  Hate pouring outta me thru my fists–

  And still I pound him–

  Still I hit–

  Thru the breaking of bone–

  And the snapping of gristle–

  And an eye crushed under my knuckles–

  Till I can no longer feel my hands–

  And still I hit–

  And his blood spills on me and over–

  And the red of it matches the red of my Noise–

  And then I lean back, still on him, covered in his blood–

  And he’s laughing, he’s laughing still–

  And he’s gurgling “Yes” thru broken teeth, “Yes–”

  And the red rises in me–

  And I can’t hold it back–

  And the hate–

  And I look over–

  At the knife–

  Just a metre away–

  On the ledge–

  By the pulpit–

  Calling for me–

  Calling–

  And this time I know–

  This time I know–

  I’m going to use it.

  And I jump for it–

  My hand outstretched–

  My Noise so red I can barely see–

  Yes, says the knife–

  Yes.

  Take me.

  Take the power in yer hand–

  But another hand is there first–

  Viola.

  And as I fall towards it there’s a rush in me–

  A rush in my Noise–

  A rush from seeing her there–

  From seeing her alive–

  A rush that rises higher than the red–

  And “Viola,” I say–

  Just “Viola”.

  And she picks up the knife.

  My momentum is tumbling me towards the edge and I’m turning to try and catch myself and I can see her lifting the knife and I can see her stepping forward and I’m falling into the ledge and my fingers are slipping on wet stone and I can see Aaron sitting up and he’s only got one eye now and it’s staring at Viola as she’s raising the knife and she’s bringing it forward and I can’t stop her and Aaron is trying to rise and Viola’s moving towards him and I’m hitting the ledge with my shoulder and stopping just short of falling over and I’m watching and what’s left of Aaron’s Noise is radiating anger and fear and it’s saying No–

  It’s saying Not you–

  And Viola’s raising her arm–

  Raising the knife–

  And bringing it down–

  And down–

  And down–

  And plunging it straight into the side of Aaron’s neck–

  So hard the point comes out the other side–

  And there’s a crunch, a crunch I remember–

  Aaron falls over from the force of it–

  And Viola lets go of the knife–

  She steps back.

  Her face is white.

  I can hear her breathing over the roar.

  I lift myself with my hands–

  And we watch.

  Aaron’s pushing himself up.

  He’s pushing himself up, one hand clawing at the knife, but it stays in his neck. His remaining eye is wide open, his tongue lolling outta his mouth.

  He gets to his knees.

  And then to his feet.

  Viola cries out a little and steps back.

  Steps back till she’s next to me.

  We can hear him trying to swallow.

  Trying to breathe.

  He steps forward but stumbles against the pulpit.

  He looks our way.

  His tongue swells and writhes.

  He’s trying to say something.

  He’s trying to say something to me.

  He’s trying to make a word.

  But he can’t.

  He can’t.

  His Noise is just wild colours and pictures and things I won’t ever be able to say.

  He catches my eye.

  And his Noise stops.

  Completely stops.

  At last.

  And gravity takes his body and he slumps sideways.

  Away from the pulpit.

  And over the edge.

  And disappears under the wall of water.

  Taking the knife with him.

  Viola sits down next to me so hard and fast it’s like she fell there.

  She’s breathing heavy and staring into the space where Aaron was. The sunlight thru the falls casts waves of watery light over her face but that’s the only thing on it that moves.

  “Viola?” I say, leaping up into a squat next to her.

  “He’s gone,” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say. “He’s gone.”

  And she just breathes.

  My Noise is rattling like a crashing spaceship full of reds and whites and things so different it’s like my head is being pulled apart.

  I woulda done it.

  I woulda done it for her.

  But instead–

  “I woulda done it,” I say. “I was ready to do it.”

  She looks at me, her eyes wide. “Todd?”

  “I woulda killed him myself.” I find my voice raising a little. “I was ready to do it!”

  And then her chin starts shaking, not as if she’s going to cry, but actually shaking and then her shoulders, too, and her eyes are getting wider and she’s shaking harder and nothing leaves my Noise and it’s all still there but something else enters it and it’s for her and I grab her and hold her to me and we rock back and forth for a while so she can just shake all she wants to.

  She don’t speak for a long time, just makes little moaning sounds in her throat, and I remember just after I killed the Spackle, how I could feel the crunch running down my arm, how I could keep seeing his blood, how I saw him die again and again.

  How I do still.

  (But I woulda.)

  (I was ready.)

  (But the knife is gone.)

  “Killing someone ain’t nothing like it is in stories,” I say into the top of her head. “Ain’t nothing at all.”

  (But I woulda.)

  She’s still shaking and we’re still right next to a raging, roaring waterfall an
d the sun’s higher in the sky and there’s less light in the church and we’re wet and bloody and bloody and wet.

  And cold and shaking.

  “Come on,” I say, making to stand. “First thing we need to do is get dry, okay?”

  I get her to her feet. I go get the bag, still on the floor twixt two pews and go back to her and hold out my hand.

  “The sun is up,” I say. “It’ll be warm outside.”

  She looks at my hand for a minute before taking it.

  But she takes it.

  We make our way round the pulpit, unable to keep from looking where Aaron was, his blood already washed away by the spray.

  (I woulda done it.)

  (But the knife.)

  I can feel my hand shaking in hers and I don’t know which one of us it is.

  We get to the steps and it’s halfway up that she first speaks.

  “I feel sick,” she says.

  “I know,” I say.

  And we stop and she leans closer to the waterfall and is sick.

  A lot.

  I guess this it what happens when you kill someone in real life.

  She leans forward, her hair wet and tangled down. She spits.

  But she don’t look up.

  “I couldn’t let you,” she says. “He would have won.”

  “I woulda done it,” I say.

  “I know,” she says, into her hair, into the falls. “That’s why I did it.”

  I let out a breath. “You shoulda let me.”

  “No.” She looks up from being crouched over. “I couldn’t let you.” She wipes her mouth and coughs again. “But it’s not just that.”

  “What then?” I say.

  She looks into my eyes. Her own are wide and they’re bloodshot from the barfing.

  And they’re older than they used to be.

  “I wanted to, Todd,” she says, her forehead creasing. “I wanted to do it. I wanted to kill him.” She puts her hands to her face. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

  “Stop it,” I say, taking her arms and pulling her hands away. “Stop it. He was evil. He was crazy evil–”

  “I know!” she shouts. “But I keep seeing him. I keep seeing the knife going into his–”

  “Yeah, okay, you wanted to,” I stop her before she gets worse. “So what? So did I. But he made you want to. He made it so it was him or us. That’s why he was evil. Not what you did or what I did, what he did, okay?”

  She looks up at me. “He did just what he promised,” she says, her voice a little quieter. “He made me fall.”

  She moans again and clamps her hands over her mouth, her eyes welling up.

  “No,” I say strongly. “No, see, here’s the thing, here’s what I think, okay?”