Oleander: One of Us Series

by Faulks, Kim

  He had to be rich. Nice people are rich…aren’t they?

  “Would you like that? Look through the binoculars, and see your dad?”

  I searched the table, searched and searched. If it was Dad he could be hurt. He could need me. He could be the one lost, be the one hungry. I gave a gentle nod as desperation soared.

  He snatched the toast from the plate and shoved it into his mouth before he skidded from the seat. “Then let’s go see. We don’t want him stranded out here when winter sets in.”

  Winter would come and turn everything white. Winter would freeze, would sting. Winter would kill you…and leave your body behind like the moose…and the birds lying on the side of the road. I didn’t want him dead.

  Didn’t want him hurt.

  I shoved against the seat and rose with the stranger.

  “I like your hair,” he murmured and reached out. “Did you color it yourself?”

  I didn’t flinch from his dirty fingers. Didn’t flinch from those dark eyes fixed on me. I shook my head, and waited.

  “So pretty, so very pretty.”

  He gave the waitress a glance and then turned away. His steps were sure now. I barely noticed the limp he’d had before as he shoved through the door, and held it open…waiting for me to follow.

  “It gets so cold here.” His words floated to me as he made for his van. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck out here alone.”

  One clench of the handle, a hard yank and the side door swung open.

  There was darkness inside. The corner of a mattress was exposed to the light. Dark patches marred the blue fabric.

  “Let me just find them,” he muttered and leaned in. “I was sure they were right there. Can you help me, my eyes just aren’t what they used to be. Is that them over there?”

  I stared at the dark blur where he pointed and took a step.

  “Yeah, just over there…can you reach for them. You might have to just step on the side, and reach in.”

  I lifted my boot, fingers stretched wide. I could almost grab it, almost…

  His hands went around my shoulders, fingers stabbing into my arm. My feet left the ground as I was lifted, and thrown inside.

  Pain flared across my shins as I hit the van floor, and pitched forward. Face smashed into the filthy mattress. I tried to breathe. Tried to scream as he gripped the back of my head.

  No!

  I kicked and bucked as his hand went around the front of my shirt. Fingers clawed, tearing and shredding. The cold air found my skin.

  “Fuck you’re pretty,” he grunted at my back.

  Tick…tick…tick…

  Panic roared, tearing along my body. I fought the need, fought his hands.

  The bitter tasted of blood filled my mouth as I whimpered. “Please.”

  But the word was muffled into the mattress.

  “It won’t take long, I promise, and it won’t hurt…not after the first time.”

  The inside of the van blurred. There was no fighting now.

  No fighting that dark power inside.

  My wrist buckled, tendons screamed as I slid my hands backwards. I didn’t want to…didn’t want to be what he made me be.

  Didn’t want to be the monster.

  Didn’t want to cause the pain.

  My fingers found his arm. I splayed my hands and gripped tight.

  And like a rattlesnake I emptied into him…all the rage…all the pain…all the hurt and the emptiness.

  He stiffened under my touch and gave a grunt.

  There was no fumbling in the dark now. No more whispers of terror.

  I lifted my head with the heavy thud and stared into his wide eyes.

  He gave a jerk and then a shudder. White foam spilled from his mouth, and the stench of urine followed, the bitter, foul stench filling my nose…my mouth.

  I lunged forward as the eggs rose. Acid and mess spilled from my mouth with strings of saliva to coat his head. Bits of toast hit his cheek with a splat. I bucked and heaved, belly screaming.

  Until there was nothing.

  No more bad man.

  No more eggs.

  No more waiting for Dad to find me.

  My muscles quivered, locked in place.

  But I had to…I had to…

  Tears blurred, spilling with sobs.

  I reached out and pushed. There was no movement. No life. Only eyes that darkened with blood.

  I’m here, a voice whispered in side my head. I stiffened, sipped my nose with the back of my hand and looked around the empty van.

  It’s okay…the voice came again…a boys voice, soft, comforting, and then it was gone, leaving me alone…leaving me abandoned.

  I swallowed hard and crouched, spearing my fingers into the man’s pocket.

  The thick wad of money was there, buckling under my fingers. I yanked the money free and scurried backwards leaving the man and eggs in the car.

  There was nothing else for me here.

  No waiting for winter.

  No waiting for Dad.

  I glanced over my shoulder to the empty highway.

  Run, that voice whispered inside me.

  And overhead an eagle screamed my name.

  I spun toward the road and took a step on shaking legs.

  The frigid wind whipped my hair and stung my eyes, and I was hungry...only this time. I was hungry to survive.

  Chapter Two

  Oleander

  Stonemore, USA 2008

  The house looked different. I scanned the outside, lingering on the yellow lights that shone through the windows, and waited.

  The memory I had of this place was cleaner, and fresher…not peeling paint and rusted cars.

  Not bicycles that rested against the lattice on the carport. Or the broken mailbox sitting in the front garden.

  Headlights splashed against the glass windows at the front of the house as a car turned the corner. I stepped backwards, melting into the shadows of the brush. Sticks and leaves clawed my cheek and my eyes. I craned my head, and waited.

  The van wasn’t here.

  Only an ugly yellow thing, low to the ground with fat black wheels. An eagle spread it’s wings across the hood, and I was reminded of the day...the day I ran…the day I survived.

  Voices drifted from inside the house. The faint sound of a woman…Carrie…it was Carrie. Carrie, with her chocolate brownies that made Dad laugh and then cry. Fragments of memories snatched my focus. But it was a jumble in my head, bits and pieces.

  But this was the last place…the last of Dad’s lady friend’s I could find. She had to know where he was…had to know if he was still alive.

  And that gnawing ache in my belly took over, it twisted and clenched and filled me with fear. Tires screeched like a beast in the dead of the night. I flinched from the sound, pulse booming inside my head.

  She had to know. She was the last one, so she had to know. I could still find him. We could still be a family. Still be together.

  That was all I wanted. I wanted it so bad I hurt deep in my bones…deeper than the monster and the ticking inside my head.

  I wanted it so bad…

  To be together…

  Just me and Dad.

  “Justin, I swear to God, you leave this house and don’t bother coming back!”

  I jerked at the scream, eyes riveted as the front door opened and a dark blur charged through. “You’re not my fucking Mom, Carrie!”

  He strode toward the bicycle and climbed on. I could see him under the silver light of the moon. He was older, older than me…but not by much. Thirteen, maybe.

  He climbed on with one swift movement and then he was gone, long skinny legs pistoning as his feet punched the pedals of the bike, flying down the drive and across the street.

  He never turned his head, never looked at me. Even if he did, what would he see? I looked down at my filthy clothes and tugged my sleeve. The shirt was too small, too tight, riding up my wrist to expose the mark. Baggy jeans hung from my hips, stolen from a
washing line. My sneakers buckled my toes and pinched the sides. They were worn underneath, so the rocks on the asphalt poked through to bruise and hurt.

  But all that was done now. Carrie would know where Dad was, and he’d take care of everything again. I glanced at the street where the kid on the bike faded and then took a step. The front door was open, yellow light spilled through.

  I’d just get the information I needed and be gone in an instant. “No problemo.”

  The words were white mist in the early morning air. But I didn’t feel the cold, not anymore. No matter how bitter and cruel the wind whipped up, it was nothing compared to those weeks spent in the Tundra as the winter moved in.

  Ice and hunger. That’s all it was. My skin turned dry and hard, and then cracked, leaving blood behind. I’d huddled in that cabin, until the snow drifts came.

  I was careful then, careful when the trucker pulled over, careful when I climbed in. I looked down at my fingers curled in tight—careful not to touch…careful not to hurt.

  Tick…tick…tick…

  Always in my head. Always reminding me what I was. I licked my lips, took a step, and then another and cut across the road.

  “Fucking kid.” A woman’s snarl slipped through the busted door as I crossed the lawn and neared the steps.

  Wooden rungs creaked under my weight. I was slow, and quiet, like the fox…climbing one step and then another before I reached for the wooden door.

  One small push and the house opened up to me. Still the same green lounge, still the same brown rug. Bright lights flashed, a voice slipped from the speakers of a brand new TV…

  And you can see here Sally, that Senator Leah Williams is calling for a greater transparency within our own Government. She claims that certain factions of top-level classified divisions sworn to protect us have tortured hundreds of children for many years. Children born here on US soil. She claims that President Johnathan Harper has not only sanctioned this abuse, but claims he was present when the team of scientists performed these horrendous acts.

  I glanced around the lounge room as movement came from the hall. That familiar foul, pungent scent of their special cigarettes filled my nose.

  “Carrie,” the word was a whisper.

  I took another step, rolling my feet as I moved along the hall toward her bedroom and tried again, forcing my voice louder. “Carrie…it’s me, Oleander.”

  Memories crowded in. Dad and Carrie rolling on the mattress…bare skin glistening in the dark. She stepped into the doorway and wrenched me from the image. Her eyes widened, gaze skimmed my clothes, moving careful until she lingered on my hair. “You.”

  My lips trembled. “M-my dad. Do you know where he is?”

  There was a flash of brilliance in her eyes, and then a slow curl of her top lip. “No, I hope the sonovabitch is fucking dead. If he isn’t, I’ll kill him myself. Gutless fucking prick.”

  My belly hardened, fists clenched tight. Her words closed in like the cold. “Don’t say that…don’t call him those names.”

  “Ha!” Her bark made me flinch. She took a step forward. That brilliance in her eyes now a blaze. “The piece of shit took every fucking cent I had. Stole my rings, took my fucking stash, and left me high and fucking dry. I hate him for it, and I have no idea why you don’t hate him as well. You want your father, do you? Even after what he did?”

  What he did? What he did? I tried to wrack my thoughts, tracing broken lines that only led to a mess inside my head.

  “You still don’t get it do you? Are you that fucking dumb? He left you, you stupid little bitch!”

  She took a step, and then another, to cross the hall. My feet moved on their own, skimming the threadbare carpet until I hit the wall.

  Yellow stained nails carved the air in front of my face. All I saw was her anger, all I felt was her hate as she screamed at me. “He fucking left you there! Don’t you get that? He left you in that shithole of a place to die. He couldn’t handle you. Fuck, I couldn’t even handle you, even at fucking six years old. When he turned up on my doorstep with you, I thought I finally had a chance to have a kid. But you weren’t any kid. You were a fucking animal…” She dropped her gaze as well as her tone. “And by the looks of it, not much has changed. After your mother was killed, your father turned into a fucking loon, talking shit about how the Government was responsible. Shot her in the head, point blank range he told me. He was broken when he came here, and he was just as broken when he left.”

  She pointed that yellowed nail at her head and tapped her skull. “Said you weren’t even human. Did you know that? Called you a fucking monster, even to your face. I fought with him over it at the beginning, fought until I was blue in the face. Still he didn’t care. Didn’t want you, but he couldn’t leave you, not unless he was sure you weren’t going to survive. He rang me that day, you know? Rang me from another bitch’s bed and told me what he was going to do.”

  No mother.

  No father.

  He left me.

  Pain raged in my belly. Ripping a hole for the monster…for the monster to get out. I shook my head, her face blurring.

  “You killed my fucking cat, do you remember? I loved that cat, and you took him from me. Loved him more than I could ever love you.”

  I shook my head. Wet drops smacked my cheeks. Nice kitty…gentle kitty. I just wanted to hold him. The bite marks on the back of my hand were tiny silver scars now.

  He shouldn’t have hurt me…they all shouldn’t have hurt me.

  “You want your father? Wait right here.” She spun then, marched into her bedroom.

  The grind of timber on timber rang clear.

  “Here, have him…have all the precious fucking memories. I was gonna burn ‘em anyway.”

  She swung her hand, photos sliced the air like razors to hit my face. I closed my eyes. Still they stung my cheek, and my nose, before they fluttered to the floor.

  My lips trembled, a sob escaped as I bent and grabbed them. They were old and dark…a baby, held by a woman I didn’t even know.

  “Who do we have here?”

  The male voice behind me made me flinch.

  “Scott, no! Don’t touch her!”

  Her screams pierced my head as heavy arms wrapped around me tight, and in an instant I was back there…in the back of that van.

  It won’t hurt, the whisper resounded in my head. Not after the first time.

  And the monster strode from that black hole inside me, and slipped its leash. My nails gouged, tearing at the arm around me as screams filled the hall.

  “Don’t you touch me! Don’tyoutouchmedon’tyoutouchme…”

  The ground beneath me shook.

  I was the hunger. I was the monster.

  The man behind me hit the ground. It was so easy now…so easy to step back and let the beast take charge.

  It was bigger than me, growing and swelling. I could feel it fill the room, feel it swallow the house…but it wanted the city.

  It wanted to be so big it swallowed the world.

  Nails clawed my face and my hands. Carrie was in front of me screaming like an eagle tearing at its kill. I lashed out and hit her.

  She fell to the ground next to the man.

  Red veins pulsed across their face, and then slowly turned black.

  But I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt them.

  “What are you doing?”

  I jerked and then spun. He stood in the hallway—the boy from the bike.

  Wide eyes held me, before he looked at the ground. “You’re hurting my dad.”

  I clawed the monster. I screamed and grabbed, swallowing, and swallowing and pulled it back inside.

  It hurt inside me. Hurt more than just pain. It hurt like loneliness, like running through the Tundra with the wind in my eyes. My knees buckled and I hit the floor.

  The photos were all around me. I stared at the blur of faces before I turned my head. The man let out a gasp, and then a groan, blood seeped from his eyes to slip like
crimson tears.

  Still I swallowed the monster…I swallowed it whole.

  “What…what are you?” The man groaned, red tracks carved the whites of his eyes. “What the fuck are you.”

  “Get out!” Carrie hissed like a feral cat and clutched her throat. “Get the fuck out and never come back!”

  Blood seeped from her nose, glistening in the faded yellow light. I snatched photos, leaving some behind and shoved to my feet. My legs were jelly, wobbling and not moving.

  I forced a step and then another, skimming my shoulders along the wall as I headed for the door.

  “Get out! Get the fuck out of here!”

  Carrie’s screams haunted me as I shoved through the door and stumbled down the stairs. There were no shadows now. Not one’s big enough to hide me.

  I ran and ran. Past the houses…and then the dark corner store. Worn sneakers slapping the pavement. But the rocks under my sneakers no longer hurt me.

  Only the monster raged.

  It thrashed and bucked. It wanted out. It wanted to be free.

  It wanted to hurt those who hurt me.

  All of them…

  My thighs burned, lungs ached. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore.

  And I found a dark corner under a bridge where the train roared above.

  A dark corner with a tiny snatch of light.

  The streetlight shone from behind the edge of the concrete to spill across the floor. I dropped to the ground and leaned my head back against the wall. The frigid night air met the burn in my lungs. I sucked and heaved, until finally my breaths slowed.

  At first I didn’t want to look at the mess in my hands.

  I didn’t want to see white glossy paper with nothing more than ghosts. Until eventually my fingers unfurled and the images dropped in my lap.

  A woman held a baby. I wiped the snot from my nose and squinted in the dark. A baby with pale hair, wide eyes, wearing a pink dress. My gaze shifted to the woman, and it was like looking at me. Your mother was killed. Shot her in the head, point blank range.

  “My mom.” The words felt alien in my mouth.

  But the way she held that baby. The way she smiled and looked at the camera I just knew…it was her.

  I lifted the others, scanned photo after photo. Some were taken at a place I didn’t know…they laughed and cheered, standing on the front lawn of a house while the baby took shaky first steps. I searched the images for anything I could find. But street signs were too blurry in the dark.