The Half-Truth (Drowning Book 2)

by Claire Svendsen

  "You’re awake!"

  There she is, food in hand and a big grin on her face. Despite her previous protests, she seems perfectly happy to be here.

  "How are you feeling?" she asks.

  "Okay, I guess," I say.

  "You were really lucky. I thought you were dead for sure. Your skin turned all pale and your eyes rolled up in your head. Oh and you should have seen the bite. It was so gross."

  "Yes," I say queasily. "I saw it."

  "You were lucky Samuel knew what he was doing."

  "Samuel?"

  "Yes, you know, the old man," she looks at me curiously. "That was who you were dragging me all the way out here to see, wasn't it?"

  "Samuel, right," I say. Only the man in my half-forgotten memories was called Richard.

  15.

  The kitchen seems like the most functional part of the building. There is a small table and three chairs, a stove and a sink that has recently been polished. An old refrigerator stands in the corner, humming ominously.

  "Come on, sit down,” Norma says. “I'll make you some tea."

  She fills a kettle and puts it on the stove while I limp over to a chair and sink into it. She puts fresh bread and butter in front of me. I'm not sure my stomach can take it but Norma encourages me with her beaming face and I take a tentative bite. Despite my reservations, it tastes like heaven.

  "This is so good," I say with a full mouth.

  "I know, right? Have you ever tasted anything so delicious? You won't believe it but Samuel has a cow. His own cow! He churns the butter himself and bakes the bread fresh every morning. I think I want to stay here forever."

  Norma's enthusiasm is infectious and soon I'm nodding my agreement that we should stay here forever and eat Samuel’s home made food. Forget about Noah. Noah who? He doesn't need me anymore. He told me to fuck off. He's getting what he deserves.

  "This is the place you were trying to get to, wasn't it?" Norma asks, helping herself to more of the fresh bread.

  "Yes. I guess. I don't remember it quite the same way though."

  The place I saw in my mind wasn't abandoned. Forgotten, sure but not neglected for decades. I didn't see how nature could have overtaken it so quickly. It just didn't seem possible.

  "It's an old Spanish monastery," Norma carries on. "Wait until you see the chapel. And through there is the little courtyard. It's so cool. It has a fountain and everything."

  "So where is Samuel?" I ask, almost afraid to know.

  "He went to milk the cow or something, collect the eggs from his chickens? I don't know. He said he'd be back in a little while."

  "Right," I say.

  I can't believe Norma is so excited about being stranded here. I thought by now she would have insisted on going back to the car or calling for help.

  I feel in my pockets for my cell phone but it’s not there. It probably fell out in the swamp. That’s just great, especially since Norma is hopeless at remembering to bring hers anywhere. She has some sort of aversion to anything technical. No wonder this wilderness appeals to her so much.

  "Is there a phone?" I ask.

  "A phone?" she laughs. "Have you seen the place? You're lucky there is running water and the only reason the stove and refrigerator work is because Samuel has a generator. He showed me how to fill it up in case he was gone a long time."

  Gone a long time milking his cow? How stupid could Norma be? A shiver runs down my spine.

  "I think we should leave," I say.

  "But why?"

  "Why? Are you serious? So much is wrong about this place that it's not even funny. And stop tempting me with more bread and butter. It won't work."

  Norma puts down the plate with a sigh.

  "I don't know what the big deal is. I thought you'd be happy."

  "I am happy," I say. "But that's just it. Somehow it feels wrong to be happy. Like the happiness is a Trojan horse or something and any minute the pain and suffering will spill out and consume us."

  "Well that's cheerful," Norma scowls.

  "I was bitten by a poisonous snake. I almost died. I know I should be relieved to be alive and I am. But something feels wrong here. I have a bad feeling. "

  Norma chokes and then spits out a mouthful of bread.

  "Do you think it's poisoned?" she asks.

  "With what? Happiness?"

  Bits and pieces of the previous night start to come back. Being injected with drugs. That couldn’t be good.

  "What did Samuel do to me?" I whisper.

  "Oh, he was great," Norma says. "He had the syringe thing with a little cup that suctioned onto your leg and pulled the venom out. Then he had the anti-venom right here. That's being pretty prepared."

  "Perhaps too prepared?" I say. "What kind of person keeps anti-venom on hand just in case. You have to be a doctor to get it. He must have stolen it. That's the sort of person we're dealing with here. You know, I don't think you were far off when you said that there was a serial killer at the end of the lane."

  Norma's face falls flat and there is a cough behind me. The sort you make when you've been standing there a while, listening to people talk about you and now you want them to know.

  "I'm a serial killer now, am I?"

  I want to turn around and look but I can't. I'm frozen with fear. Sure, the man's voice sounds nice. Deep, soft, kind. But voices can be deceiving and so can homemade food.

  "Hey Samuel," Norma finally stutters. "We weren’t talking about you."

  She swallows uneasily, her enthusiasm gone.

  Footsteps echo on the old stone floor. Then a gnarled hand touches my shoulder.

  "I'm glad you're feeling better Ana. May I look at your wound?"

  I want to shout no and run away but since I can't really run right now and he did probably save my life, I feel obligated to nod yes.

  He kneels down in front of me, tenderly peeling back the gauze. The salve has turned a muddy brown color, the wound still red and angry.

  "I need to redress this," he says gently. "Norma, get my bag will you?"

  I shake my head, begging Norma silently not to leave me alone with him but she shrugs and goes off to get his bag. Some friend she is.

  "You were lucky," he says. "This bite was a nasty one."

  "Yeah, I know," I say. "Um, thanks for saving me."

  He looks up at me, shining blue eyes lost in a wrinkled old face. His hair is white and he has a beard but it's been trimmed short. I can't tell if he's the man from my memory or not and even if he is, I'm sure there is no way he would remember me. But then he smiles.

  "You don't think you ended up here by accident, do you?" he says.

  16.

  "Do I know you?" I ask. "Do you remember me?"

  He looks up and smiles, then starts to laugh. I think maybe I should have kept my mouth shut but he stands and takes my cup, tipping out the dregs of tea and taking a glass bottle from the refrigerator. It's full of a pale blue liquid that he pours into my cup.

  "Drink this," he says.

  "What is it?"

  "You don't want to know. But it will help with the nausea and the pain."

  The stuff smells disgusting, like old socks and mildew but I take a small sip anyway and it's not half bad. It tastes fruity, in a slightly overripe sort of way.

  "I did meet you before. I know I did," I say.

  The place has aged far more than it should have and the old man is younger than the one I met so long ago but I know it's him. It has to be.

  "Yes," he says, sitting down at the table. "I met you once, a long time ago. But I was a different person then."

  "I’m not sure I remember," I say.

  He laughs and pulls at his beard. "Your vision has changed. Or rather something is changing it for you."

  I put my hand on my belly, knowing he is talking about Julia. She's been shifting reality since she was first conceived and her powers are only growing stronger. But perhaps out here in the wilderness, her power over Noah will be less. Maybe he's got aw
ay from her by now.

  "I knew," he says. "I knew you were with child as I carried you last night. Felt the pull of evil from within you."

  I shudder at his words, cold water trickling down my spine. He knows what I do.

  "I don't know what to do," I say. "I don't want her to hurt anyone else."

  He reaches out and takes my hand in his. I want to pull away but my arm feels heavy, it won’t do what I want. I stare at it helplessly as he squeezes it tight.

  "You've come to the right place. I can help you."

  “How?” I say, not daring to believe that it’s true. That finally someone can help me.

  “I can force the demon spirit from you but you have to trust me. Can you do that?”

  I nod. "What about Noah?"

  "Is he in danger?"

  "Yes," I whisper.

  He closes his eyes, his other hand reaching around his neck and pulling out a cross. The same one I remember fashioned out of two old nails. He rubs it and whispers to himself. I imagine him connecting spiritually with Noah and suddenly feel sick again. What if Noah is dead?

  Finally he opens his eyes. "He's alive."

  Tears spring up in my eyes but don't fall. Noah is still alive. Hope isn't lost.

  "And the other one is alive too."

  The bottom falls out of my world as I stare at him, heart racing in my chest. Norma is standing in the doorway, holding a black medical bag. I can't find the words to ask him what he means but deep down I know that what I saw at the abortion clinic was not a lie. Mark is alive.

  17.

  "Mark is dead." Norma slams the medical bag down on the table and glares at me. "Don't start this shit again, Ana. That guy had you wrapped around his finger in more ways than one. I don't know what you saw in him or how he got you to do the things you did with him but he's gone now. He fell off the balcony and he died in that pantry. The end."

  I blink up at Norma, hearing her words but not believing them. Somehow he's alive. I've known it ever since that day and now I know it's really true. She looks at me and shakes her head.

  "You," she points to Samuel. "Do you know what you're doing to her? Giving her false hope like that? She'll drive herself crazy trying to find him. Trying to find a dead guy. Do you understand that?"

  Samuel doesn't answer. He looks at me and smiles. He knows just like I do that reality is fluid. That up and down can mix around. Death and life intertwine. I don't know how or why and I don't care but I know that it's true.

  "I have to find him," I stand up. But pain sears through my leg and I fall back onto the chair.

  "All in good time," Samuel says. "Let’s change this bandage and then you need to rest."

  He tends to my leg gently. Wiping away the old salve and spreading on new. It's cold and takes the pain away instantly. I let out the breath I've been holding since I stood up. He wraps fresh gauze around my thigh, then sits back and smiles.

  "That should do it."

  Then rummages in his bag and pulls out a syringe and a bottle of clear liquid.

  "Hold on there," Norma says. "What are you giving her now?"

  "For the pain," he smiles, then winks at me. “And the demon.”

  I don't tell him that the salve already helped with the pain because I'm sure that once I try and move again it will be back. Walking down to the kitchen obviously aggravated it.

  "Ana," she says. "You don't need anything more from him. We should try and get back to the car. Get you to the hospital so you can be checked out by a real doctor."

  "I am a real doctor, young lady," Samuel says.

  He pulls a thick rubber band around my upper arm and rubs alcohol on my skin.

  "Don't let him do this to you Ana," Norma shouts.

  But I suddenly trust him. He knows about Julia and Noah but more importantly he believes that Mark is still alive. Right now I trust him more than anyone in the whole world. And I seem to have lost the ability to speak or move. My tongue is fat in my mouth. My eyelids feel heavy. I want to lie down and sleep and when I wake, I want to search for Mark until I find him.

  He looks for a vein, presses the needle against my skin and looks up, waiting for me to give the okay. I smile and nod, knowing in my heart that he won't hurt me and unable to do anything to stop him anyway. The needle pierces my skin and he pulls blood back into the syringe before injecting the clear liquid. I taste it as it rushes through my veins, feel the immediate kick of relief. I start to float away.

  18.

  Samuel helps me back to my room. Each step a slow agony that feels almost as though the pain belongs to someone else. Norma glares at me as we leave the kitchen. I know she never really approved of Mark. After the summer was over she told me that I'd let him take advantage of me. That there was no way I could have fallen in love with him from the first moment I saw him. But I knew she was wrong. I did. I couldn't explain it but that's just what happened.

  Sure, part of me was ashamed that I'd thrown myself at him. Let him do those things to me on that very first day. But it was nothing that I hadn't let other guys do. The ones I hadn't even felt anything for. It was my way of coping. Of blocking out Julia. Some people did drugs or cut themselves. Sex was my weapon and I used it to block out the voice in my head time and time again. But Mark had done so much more than that for me.

  I stumble as we take the stairs.

  "Lean on me," Samuel whispers gently.

  I do. He smells of the earth, musky and dark.

  "Can you really help me?" I mumble.

  "Yes," he replies. "I’ll take care of your problem. I’ll take care of everything.”

  When we reach my room, he helps me to the bed. I lay down and while my body is on the bed, my head feels like it's somewhere floating up by the ceiling. I'm looking down at a skinny girl and an old man. I watch as he pulls the blanket up and tucks it around me.

  He leans in and kisses my forehead. The simple sweet gesture of a parent, someone who wants to take care of you. I'm pretty sure my parents never kissed me like that. In fact I'm pretty sure they never kissed me at all. Samuel leaves and I'm back in my body, staring up at the ceiling I was just floating on. Light filters through the hole in the roof and a soft breeze blows through the window. I toss and turn, not able to get comfortable even with the drugs but eventually I fade away.

  In my dreams I see Mark. He's running away from me but I don't care. I have to catch him. I have to explain. I call out his name but my voice is little more than a squeak. He doesn't hear.

  I push past people on the sidewalk. People with blank faces who turn and stare at me as I run past. Their mouths open wide, jaws unhinge like a snake and forked tongues try to grab me. One woman lunges forward, her fangs sinking into my arm. I scream and try to push her off but the others see my weakness. They surround me, sinking their teeth into my flesh. Pain courses through my body. I call out for Mark and suddenly there he is. He pushes past the snake people, shoving them to the side. Then pulls me to my feet.

  "I love you," I sob. "Don't ever leave me."

  "I won't," he says, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face just like he used to.

  He leans in and kisses me, his lips just as sweet as they ever were and I fall into him with relief. But something is wrong. His tongue is in my mouth, a forked tongue. I choke and gag as he shoves it hard against the back of my throat.

  I push him off me. "What are you doing?"

  He doesn't speak. Just sinks his own fangs into my face.

  I wake up screaming. The room is dark. I have no idea how long I've been asleep. There is more bread and butter on the table beside me and a glass of the blue liquid. I eat and drink, trying to shake off the nightmare. Mark would never want to hurt me. He loved me just as much as I loved him. He was everything to me.

  There is a knock at the door. Samuel with a candle and his medical bag.

  "How are you feeling?" he asks.

  "I'm not sure," I say.

  I want to tell him about the nightmare but I'm not s
ure he'd understand and I want him to help me find Mark. He redresses the snake bite. In the glow of the candle it doesn't look as red and angry.

  "It's getting better," he says, applying more of the salve. "But your system has had a shock. You need to rest."

  "I don't think resting agrees with me," I say, falling back on the lumpy pillow.

  "Bad dreams?" he asks.

  "Something like that."

  "It's the poison. It's still in your system. It will pass."

  "I hope so," I say.

  This time he doesn't ask if I want the drugs. He just gives them to me. By now I crave the release as the liquid surges through my veins and I float away. Perhaps, with enough drugs, I'll find the real Mark and make him love me again.

  19.

  "Come on, we have to go."

  Someone is shaking me. My body is rubbery and weak. I don't feel like I have control over my arms and legs. I want whoever it is to go away and leave me alone. I'm happy here in my drug cocoon. Can't they see that?

  "Ana, you have to get up. I'm getting you out of here."

  It's Norma. She's in my face, trying to rouse me. I push her away.

  "Leave me alone," I say. "I have to rest."

  "Rest? Are you fucking kidding me? You're high as a kite. That old man may be a priest of some kind but he might as well be your drug dealer. He's killing you."

  "That snake tried to kill me," I mumble. "Samuel is helping me."

  "Helping you?" she whispers as loud as she can. "How is pumping you full of drugs helping you? And what's in that blue liquid? Can't you see what's happening here? If we don't leave now, maybe we won't be able to later."

  I push her off me and sit up. Her face swims in my vision like a giant, bloated balloon. I start to laugh.

  "It's not funny," she snaps. Then she leans in with a big ham hand and slaps my face. I hardly feel a thing but I’m still pissed that she just hit me.

  "What the fuck?" I shout. "Who do you think you are? Samuel is helping me more than you ever did. He's going to help me find Mark."