by Amy Cross
"Paula!" Ed calls out. "Wait!"
I keep walking, but he soon catches up to me and we walk together toward the truck.
"So are we going to have this awkward silence all the way back to Florence?"
"I guess so," I reply, not really in the mood for talking. I'm still fighting the urge to land a punch on his smug, lying face, and I'd rather just be alone and get my thoughts together. I never want to hear the name Devil's Briar again.
"I'm sorry for deceiving you," he says as we reach the truck, "but I hope you can understand my reasoning."
"Your reasoning?" I reply, opening the passenger's side door and climbing in. I sigh, realizing I can't handle a huge argument. I'm so tired, I just want to get this whole thing over with. "Don't talk to me," I say eventually, as Ed gets into the truck and takes the keys from his pocket. "I'm exhausted," I continue. "I just want to look out the window and get out of here. Is it too much to ask you to just drive me to Florence and not keep nagging at me?"
"Fine," he says, trying to start the engine. After a couple of attempts, he checks the dials.
"What's wrong?" I ask, starting to get this slightly panicky feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"I don't know," he replies. "Everything looks okay. Wait a moment." Getting out of the truck, he walks around and seems to be examining the exhaust. I sit and wait for him to get done, and finally I notice that he's crouched down to look under the vehicle. "Shit!" he says eventually.
My heart skips a beat. "What?" I ask, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down.
"There's a leak," he replies. "The fuel tank's got a gash on the underside. All the gas has leaked out."
I stare straight ahead, my mind racing. This can't be happening again. There's no way that another truck can have exactly the same damage as the first. Getting out and walking around to where Ed is examining the underside, I take a look for myself. Sure enough, the fuel tank has a large hole, and the strangest thing is that it looks like exactly the hole that I saw back on the first truck when I was here with Bill.
"How the hell did that happen?" Ed asks, and I can tell from the tone of his voice that he's genuinely shocked.
I take a step back from the truck, trying to work out what this means. There's no way in the world that this could be a coincidence. Two different trucks have developed exactly the same problem, and in both cases it was just as I was demanding to leave Devil's Briar. I turn and look at the town, and I feel my chest start to tighten as it becomes apparent that something is trying to keep me here.
"I think we have some spares in the back," Ed says, but I just keep staring at the town. "Paula?" he asks after a moment. "Are you okay?"
I don't look at him. All I can do is stare at Devil's Briar and think about my helplessness. I swear to God, this town is playing a trick on me; either that, or Bill's out here somewhere, trying to make sure we don't get away. Whatever's going on, it's obvious that we're being treated like playthings. All I want is to get away from here and never, ever come back, and now I feel as if I'm going to be stuck here forever. Is Devil's Briar going to keep me in its grip, constantly pulling me back until I finally give up and decide to stay?
"Paula -" Ed says, putting his hand on my shoulder. Before he can continue, I turn and run, heading past the truck and out toward the forest. Somehow, for some reason, Devil's Briar is trying to make sure I don't leave. All I can think about is that I'm not going to stay here a second longer. I'm going to get away, or die trying.
Chapter Seven
1925
Waking from yet another restless dream, I turn and see that once again Victoria has left our bed in the middle of the night. I reach out and touch the space where she should be sleeping, and I feel that her side is cold. She has clearly been up for many hours, undoubtedly sitting in my study and trying yet again to see some sign of her uncle's presence. Sighing, I turn on my side and try to go back to sleep, reasoning that there is nothing I can do to help the poor girl; eventually, however, I realize I cannot possibly sleep while she is in so much torment, so I climb out of bed and walk through to the hallway.
"You must come to bed," I say as I enter the study. "All this -" I pause, finding that there is no sign of Victoria. Her uncle's notebooks are scattered on the floor, and the candles have not been lit. Hurrying out of the room, I check every other part of the house until finally I realize that my wife is nowhere to be found.
With a sense of rising panic, I quickly get dressed before rushing out into the street. The town is dark and quiet, and I cannot imagine what my dear Victoria could possibly be doing out here. Stumbling along, I head toward Thomas Paternoster's grave, which rests on the edge of town. When I reach the spot, however, Victoria is nowhere to be seen. Standing in the cold night air, I stare at the dark patch of earth where Paternoster's body was buried a few days ago. The headstone is not yet ready, but there is a strange atmosphere out here. After a moment, I feel a presence nearby, but I turn to find that there is no-one there.
I hurry back into the town, desperate to find Victoria. She knows so few people in Devil's Briar, and I cannot imagine what business might have led her to wander off in such a manner. My biggest fear is that perhaps she has wandered out into the forest, in which case I have no idea how I might ever find her again. For now, I must simply hope that she is somewhere within the town itself, and I head for the hotel in case I can find her there. Storming up the steps and into the reception area, I go to the desk and check the ledger before hurrying upstairs and barging into the room where John Saxon has been staying.
"Where is she?" I shout, almost shaking with rage, before I realize that Saxon is nowhere to be found. His bed appears to be undisturbed, which can mean only one thing: the pair of them have gone off together, eloping from Devil's Briar and leaving me to look like a fool. I should never have allowed myself to believe that such a beautiful, intelligent young lady might settle for life as my wife. Taking a deep breath, I realize that I was wrong to think I could tame such a wild spirit. Victoria has clearly run off with the younger, more handsome, more exciting John Saxon. I turn to leave the room, and it is only now that I see the awful truth.
Slumped on the floor, partially hidden behind the open door, John Saxon's corpse stares up at me. He has clearly been dead for a few hours, and a large pool of blood has spread out across the floor. In his chest, there is a large wound where some kind of blade has sliced through his body. His dead eyes are looking in my direction, and I realize with dread that the most likely culprit in this murder is surely my own, dear Victoria. She blamed Saxon for her uncle's death, and she has now taken her revenge. By now, she is probably far away from here.
Stepping over to Saxon's body, I reach down and close his eyes. I push his dead body under the bed, in order to keep it concealed for as long as possible, before I hurry out of the room and back down the stairs. I emerge into the bracing night air and realize that I must raise the alarm, and eventually people will start to understand what has happened. My reputation in this town is clearly ruined. The only solution will be for me to leave Devil's Briar forever and start again somewhere else.
"Albert!" a voice calls out, and I look across the town square to see Victoria huddled on the ground, next to the cross.
"My dear!" I shout, hurrying over to her. "Whatever are you doing out here?" I ask, as I see that her clothes are torn and she seems to have a number of cuts and bruises on her face. I get closer and realize that there is a terrible smell coming from, like sulfur mixed with some kind of chemical. "You must come home at once," I stammer, determined to get her out of sight and back to the safety of our home.
"Of course," she says, getting to her feet. She seems remarkably calm, almost as if she does not recognize the enormity of what has happened. "I was just thinking about poor Catherine Collings. This is where she died, you know, except it was snowing that night."
"Do not dwell on such things," I tell her, taking her by the hand and leading her back toward our house.
"Poor Catherine is no longer suffering. She is at peace, and I am quite certain that she is in Heaven now, with God."
"It sounds so easy when you put it like that," Victoria replies.
"Nothing is easy," I say, "but at least the poor girl will have received her reward." As we reach the house, I reflect that this is the first time I have had a proper conversation with Victoria since her uncle killed himself. I cannot help but that think, finally, she is rousing from her melancholy, though the price of this recovery is far too great. Even now, I see blood stains on her skin and clothes. There can be no doubt that she is the one who killed Mr. Saxon.
"I am sorry to have worried you," Victoria says as we go inside and I push the door shut. "I fear I have not been the wife you desired. Not yet, anyway."
"Do not apologize," I reply. "We have the rest of our lives to look forward to. That, in itself, is enough to cheer my soul." I take a deep breath, trying to work out how I might ensure that Victoria's terrible actions do not become common knowledge. I shall endeavor to shield her from public scrutiny. There is yet a way that this whole situation can be saved.
"You look so fraught, Albert," she says as she puts her arms around me, holding me tight. Finally, it is as if all the trauma of the past week has been washed away and Victoria is ready to move on from the loss of her uncle. Perhaps I was right all along; perhaps she merely needed some time to adjust to her new life, and to understand that she can still be happy even if Mr. Paternoster is no longer with us. As I told her over and over again, she retains all her memories from her time with him, and she must focus on our marriage. I take a deep breath, smelling her hair, and I realize that for the first time in my life, I'm truly happy; I can see a future for us, and I can see us one day having children. I also believe that eventually the world will come to recognize Devil's Briar as a model town, and this place will be famous across the nation as a perfect community. I cannot jeopardize all of these accomplishments; I must ensure that Victoria is not blamed for Saxon's death.
"We must go to bed," I say eventually, looking into Victoria's beautiful eyes.
"Come," she replies, taking me by the hand and leading me to the bedroom. "You need your rest, my dear. You have been under such a terrible strain of late, partly because of my own behavior. I can only apologize."
"Think nothing of it," I tell her, deciding that as soon as she is asleep I shall gather up her uncles notebooks and burn them. Although it is certainly likely that Victoria will be angry at first, I believe that any short-term problems will be more than countered by the long-term benefits of ensuring that Victoria can make a firm break from her past. Otherwise, she might spend the rest of her life suffering under the influence of an unnatural obsession with a dead man.
"Do not worry about my work," she continues. "I realized tonight that I have become far too engrossed in the minutiae of my uncle's experiments. I failed to see the bigger picture, and I allowed myself to become maudlin and self-obsessed. Fortunately, I have been able to see through these errors and recognize the need to take a different approach. I am still interested in pursuing my uncle's theories, of course, but not in a way that will cause problems for our life together." She turns to me. "You must have thought me quite mad when I spent so many hours sitting alone with the candles. I hope I did not cause you too much heartache."
"Do not worry about it now," I say, hoping to reassure her. "I will ensure that everything is okay." I pause for a moment, staring into her bright eyes. If only I could find some way to ease her burden. "My dear Victoria, I shall straighten the whole situation out. For now, you must get out of these clothes. I'm afraid the odor is quite atrocious."
Nodding, she starts to disrobe and I step back, trying to work out what is causing such a terrible smell. Finally, once Victoria is naked, I lead her through to the washroom, where I intend to scrub her clean. I draw a pail of water and prepare some cloths, as I try to work out how I am going to explain Mr. Saxon's death. The unfortunate truth is that there is no-one in Devil's Briar who might ordinarily be deemed capable of committing such a grievous crime. Eventually, however, I decide that the best approach is to persuade people that some old enemy of Saxon has come to town, struck him a mortal blow, and then departed under cover of night. The story is a little far-fetched, but I am quite sure that in my capacity as a respected man of the community, I can make the narrative stick. The alternative would be to let everyone know that my dear wife is a murderer, and I cannot possibly allow such a thing to happen.
"I remember," Victoria says suddenly.
I turn to her. "What do you remember?"
"I remember what I was doing tonight, before you found me."
"And what was that?" I ask.
"Oh," she replies, frowning for a moment. "Yes," she says eventually. "It makes perfect sense."
"What?"
"Gasoline," she says.
"Gasoline?"
"I took all the gasoline I could find and I..." She pauses. "I used it."
I stare at her for a moment. "How did you use it?" I ask.
"I completed my uncle's work," she replies. "It took me so long, but I finally realized what I needed to do in order to set the stage for him to return. I had to cleanse the town, and I spent so long trying to work out how to do it until..." She pauses. "I had to burn everything," she continues eventually. "When the fire is over, all the bad things will have been burned away, and all the good things will be left, and then my uncle will be free to return. I can't let him sleep for too long, or he might not be able to wake up at all."
"What did you do?" I ask, starting to worry that she has taken matters into her own hands. At that moment, I hear a scream in the distance, followed by various shouts and cries.
"Tomorrow," Victoria says, smiling, "everything will be better. All the bad things will have been burned away."
I turn and hurry through to the hallway, before opening the door and finding that the street is filled with smoke. Looking toward the town square, I see flames roaring up into the night sky. I make my way along the street and eventually find that a huge fire has enveloped not only the hotel, but also many of the other buildings. Wherever the flames began, they are spreading quickly from building to building. We have no means of putting a stop to the fire, and no means of calling for help. At this rate, the whole town will be destroyed. As more people emerge from their houses, I look back and see that Victoria has followed me. She is still naked, and she has a terrible smile on her face. It is as if she believes she has done a good thing, when in fact she might have doomed the entire town.
Hearing a crashing sound, I turn to see the mayoral office building collapse into a burning heap. People are now running desperately from the flames, and thick black smoke is filling the streets. It is as if the whole of Devil's Briar is burning to the ground.
Chapter Eight
Today
"You're lucky I caught up with you," Ed says, sitting next to my hospital bed. "If you'd got away into the woods, there's no way you'd have survived. Less than twelve hours later, a huge snowstorm hit the whole area. Four or five feet of snow came down. Frankly, we're all lucky we got back to civilization when we did."
I nod, still trying to work out exactly what happened. My memory is pretty hazy, but I definitely remember running through a forest. It's as if I was trying to get away from something, and I have this overwhelming feeling of fear and anger, but at the same time I don't remember exactly what had happened. Clearly something had got me all riled up, but it feels like my mind is starting to cloud over. I've had this strange sensation of emptiness ever since I woke up a few hours ago.
"There are a couple of other things you should know," Ed continues. He pauses for a moment. "First of all, we found Bill."
"Where?" I reply.
"Near Florence. Don't worry, he's okay. He just got beat up a little in a car accident."
"A car accident?" I stare at him, my mind racing. "What the hell are you talking about? What was Bill doing in a car accident?
"
"We're still trying to work out exactly what happened," Ed explains calmly. "A local patrol found a crashed car at the side of the road. Inside, the driver was dead and the passenger had several broken bones. It wasn't for a couple of days that they learned that the passenger was Bill. We got the call yesterday."
I take a deep breath. "Who was the driver?"
"Some farmer who'd apparently picked Bill up on the side of the road. Like I said, parts of the story are pretty hazy, but the important thing is that Bill's okay. He's a little bruised and battered, but he's up and about. In fact, he's coming to see you today."
"He is?" I reply, feeling a little alarmed. I don't remember everything that happened, but I have this strange feeling that Bill and I aren't on good terms. That wouldn't exactly be a huge surprise. After all, we've been unhappily married for a few years now. Right now, I'm kind of dreading the thought of seeing him again, even if I can't quite put my finger on a reason for such a visceral reaction. "What about Devil's Briar?" I ask, shuddering at the memory of that place.
"What's that?" Ed asks.
"Devil's Briar," I say. "The town." I wait for Ed to reply, but he just stares at me, looking a little confused. "Devil's Briar," I say again, "the -" I pause, and suddenly I realize that I'm not quite sure what I'm talking about. It's almost as if my memory is fading as I speak; moments ago, Devil's Briar seemed like the most important thing in the world, but now I'm not even sure where the place is, or whether I've even been there, or why it's important. It's like my memory is being picked apart, seam by seam.