by C.L. Bevill
Chapter 4
Really Not Alone…
When my much-too-heavy eyelids finally lifted again, my four limbs were tied to four stakes that had been plunged into the ground. Everything hurt from my head to my back to my wrists to my ankles. The ropes were secure, and the bonfire still merrily burned yards away, and it was the only noise I could perceive. I slowly turned my head and saw that I wasn’t alone. I mean, I really wasn’t alone. I might have been glad despite that two things were a problem, and the second was a doozie. The first was that I was tied helplessly to the ground. The second was that the man who had attacked me was sitting nearby on a rock, methodically sharpening his knife. Perhaps the fire’s dancing light made it worse, but he looked far more dangerous than any of the new creatures I had faced previously.
Being alone didn’t seem like such a terrible thing at that moment. I tugged at my wrists and pulled as hard as I could. My skin began to tear.
“It won’t…” he said and stopped. I froze as he spoke. He wasn’t used to talking any more than I was, and it obviously bothered him. Then he started again hoarsely, “It won’t do you any good to struggle. I’ve had…practice.” He pointed with the end of the long knife he had been sharpening.
I looked and saw what I initially thought was a pile of rocks. It wasn’t rocks. It was a pile of burnt bones. The one on top was instantly recognizable as a human skull. A femur stuck out from under the skull. Black, thick fear threatened to overwhelm me. It rolled over me, and my stomach clenched as if being compressed by a large fist.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement, and I turned my head to see. It looked like a large spider scuttling out of sight. I thought, You’re losing it, girl. My eyes went back to the man with the knife.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said faintly, ashamed that my tone came across as pleading. Regardless, my voice sounded scratchy, and it wasn’t the only thing that was off. My flesh seemed as though it was on fire. I knew that I wasn’t close to the flames, but I felt as though I was standing right on top of them. I felt as though I was drugged, dragging myself endlessly through heavy water. Then I added what I had most desired, “You’re not alone anymore.”
The man resumed his knife sharpening, the snick-snick-snick of the blade going over the whetstone sending a shiver of helpless reaction down my spine. “I’ve always been alone,” he said almost calmly. The insanity was threaded through his tone. His Slinky was seriously kinked. He was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. He was surfing in Nebraska.
I finally found someone, but he had slipped over into the world of dementia and delusion, and he was going to fillet me like a fish he was preparing for dinner. “My name is Sophie,” I said desperately. “You don’t have to be alone anymore. Just like I don’t have to be alone anymore.” But I was lying. I didn’t want to be around this man with his face that clearly showed the warped malevolence underneath. I wanted my mother and my father. I wanted my friends. I wanted people who loved me and whom I loved. I didn’t want this escapee from an insane asylum. This man could be me, if I wasn’t very careful. “I can…”
My words broke off when the man hurled himself off the rock with a grunting roar. “Shut up!” he bellowed as he moved. “I don’t want to hear your VOICE!” The knife flashed high above his shoulder, and his eyes glittered wildly in the fire’s golden light. The knife made an arc that ended as he straddled my body and brought it down into the fleshy part of my shoulder. He said “Shut up!” again, but I didn’t really hear it because I was already screaming with the onslaught of the agony brought on by the knife’s penetration.
Even while I was screaming, I saw that he wasn’t so much older than I was, not even twenty-five under the black dirt embedded in his skin. But the thought skittered away as he reversed direction and yanked the blade out with a sickening slurping noise. My scream was abruptly cut off as I fought to maintain consciousness.
The pain and the heat and the fear all swamped me like a huge wave. I opened my mouth to say something, to say anything, when he lifted the knife again. It looked as though he was aiming for center of mass, and my time was coming to a horrible end. There was a moment where I took it in and thought that at least it would end quickly.
A single firefly that was not really a firefly buzzed directly into the man’s face. He grimaced uncontrollably and swatted at it with the knife. I blinked, and a second one appeared. Then another and another appeared, a barrage of little enemy fighters zooming in for the kill. The man began to throw his arms around, trying to chase them away. He snarled viciously, and they flew at his face. He threw himself to his feet and ran at the bonfire.
I think he was going to reach for a lit branch to wave at the fireflies, but they stormed him in a ferocious torrent. He screeched and tripped, falling into the fire while they veered away from the conflagration. Branches and fire crackled in an angry sea of flames. It seemed as though he lay in the fire for a long time, but it must have only been for a few seconds. He started to scream in earnest, wretched emanations of pain that made me want to cover my ears, and rolled away from the flames. His hair was on fire as was his ragged clothing. Leaping to his feet, he ran as if that would save him. He kept screaming as he went off the side of the bluff and then it stopped abruptly.
The fireflies circled in an agitated fashion. Then a few came and flew about me. Their tone changed to a soothing one. It was like a thousand mothers murmuring relaxingly to me. When I blinked, they started to fly away. A last one jabbered at me in a scolding manner and then shot off after the rest. Déjà vu.
I heard a loud panting noise and tensed as I thought the man was returning to finish what he had started. I looked to see, expecting to see a burnt angry lunatic coming back up the bluff. But it was another man altogether. His hair was dark and his eyes were brown and his chest heaved with effort. He stopped abruptly about five feet away and harshly stared down at me. That was okay with me as long as he wasn’t a close companion to the other one.
“Oh,” he said solemnly while trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t break his gaze on me, not even when the other person crested the bluff. My eyes fell on her, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. She puffed like a steam engine. She looked around the man and then the area, scanning quickly.
Three people. One insane. Two out of breath. A thousand glowing fireflies that whispered and seemed to be protective. Talk about a puzzle.
The woman, who was middle aged and blue eyed, pushed the man aside. She studied me quickly, summing up what the restraints meant, and said, “Where’s the…?”
“I heard a scream,” said the younger man, not looking away from my face. I was having a hard time focusing no matter how much I wanted to look at the pair of them. “Then a…crash.” He pointed at the bluff. “I think…our little friends helped.”
The woman stared down at me and frowned. “Just don’t stand there. Get a knife out. Cut these ropes. Her wrists and ankles are bloody. Just look at her shoulder.”
“Kara,” he said agitatedly, his eyes still locked on me. “I should check and make sure the other one is…”
Kara looked toward the bluff. She slowly shook her head. “No, he’s not a threat anymore. They would have let us know.”
A knife came out of a sheath on the man’s belt and I winced. A sound came out of my mouth that sounded like a terrified whine. After a moment, I realized that was exactly what I was doing. The man checked his movement, and the woman said, “It’s all right, honey. My name is Kara, and his name is Zach. We’re not going to hurt you.”
My eyes darted toward the bluff.
Kara looked for a moment. “He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”
I tried to speak but I couldn’t.
The man named Zach sliced the ropes at my ankles, but I whined again when he approached my wrists. He stopped. “What if Kara does it?”
I nodded slowly.
When Kara cut the ropes at my wrists, I found I couldn’t lower my arms. The shoulder with the wound was
an explosion of agony. “You’re…” I said, and the words were choked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You’re not with…him?”
The older woman sat beside me and tried to help me with my arms. She rubbed the muscles while Zach stared at me. He had an odd expression on his face as he continued his unwavering gaze. “We don’t even know him,” he said. “So, neither did you.”
“You’re the first people I’ve seen,” I said tiredly. Relief was surging through my exhausted body, reminding me that I was crashing off the adrenalin rush. All that was left was my aching body and a burning that made me feel as though the coastal temperature was barely above freezing. “Besides…”
“He doesn’t count,” Zach said ruthlessly. “He wasn’t human anymore.” His eyes had finally looked away from my face. They were fixed on something else. I didn’t need to look to see that it was the pile of bones.
My arms finally came down, and Kara helped me sit up. My head spun. I held it in my hands and tried to get a grip on the spinning world. I said, “He hit me. I think maybe I’ve got a concussion.” Black dots appeared at the edges of my vision, and it felt as though the world was sinking.
For the second time that day, I fell into darkness.