by Kathy Miner
“So the dead can convince themselves of things?”
“Yep. Just like the living. And as long as we’re on the subject, they don’t become all-knowing and wise, even after they’ve reckoned with the light. If your Aunt Sue gave you bad advice when she was living, you probably shouldn’t listen to her when she’s dead.”
That got a chuckle out of Luc, and it made Cass realize how long it had been since she’d heard him really laugh. This was a grim and frightening task, and she felt both guilty and grateful that he’d undertaken it with her. They finished eating, then stood in the shade, contemplating the gathering clouds in the western sky. A gusting breeze had picked up while they ate, refreshing, but pushing ahead of it the smell of rain. Cass took off her baseball cap and stuffed it in her pack, then re-did her mess of a ponytail, enjoying the way the breeze cooled her sweaty head. She secured the rain cover on her backpack before resettling the straps on her shoulders.
“I guess if we get rained on, we might smell better.”
Her quip earned another chuckle from Luc, and they left the cemetery, walking briskly side-by-side. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I know I didn’t have what most people think of as a ‘typical’ upbringing, but I always thought it was weird, how mainland girls wore so many different layers of scent. Their hair stuff, lotion, then perfume. It’s like their real scent was something to be ashamed of.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking something similar about the end of disposable razors. What are we all going to do? Shave with a straight razor? Scavenge some Brazilian wax? Or,” she clutched her chest dramatically, “Get used to the fact that grown women have hair on their bodies?”
Luc’s cheeks flushed, but he laughed. “The end of civilization as we know it.” He was quiet for a few steps, then spoke again, thoughtfully this time. “Does it ever seem to you that some things are better, because of the plague? I mean,” he hurried to clarify, “Not that so many people died. That part is terrible. But maybe we’ll be done with stupid things like too much artificial this or that, like scent and additives in our food. Maybe a world where girls have body hair and that’s just normal will be better.”
Hearing how closely his thoughts mirrored what Cass often thought reinforced the connection that had been growing between them through all the days of working and sailing and learning together. In the time before, Cass had enjoyed casual friendships and the occasional romantic interlude. People came and went in her life, with Veda as her only necessary constant. Now, she could see how she’d held people at arm’s length. Safer, to keep relationships surface-only. No chance of rejection that way. She knew, from counseling her clients, that she had “family of origin” issues, that she felt abandoned by her parents and her brother, and had limited others’ access to her heart as a result.
But now, survival was forcing people to work together whether they liked each other or not. To do that, they needed to really know each other, strengths, weaknesses and all. Relationships were no longer temporary or disposable. It was so much harder. And so much richer. Cass looked over at Luc as they walked and realized that she might very well know this young man all the rest of her days on the Earth. She’d watch him grow and mature. She’d meet his new little brother or sister, and watch that child grow. In all likelihood, she would build unique and lasting relationships with every person on the island – even the elusive “Mr. Smith.” The insight made her smile and also made her heart clutch with tenderness and fear. People could be gone in a blink. Everyone left living knew that.
“I hope you’re right, Luc. I hope at least some things will be better. I really want to think we didn’t lose so much and gain nothing in return.”
Luc nodded. “My mom thinks the plague was Nature’s way of forcing us all to evolve.” He nudged her with his elbow as they walked. “You know, those of us who weren’t already psychic. Anyway, she thinks the plague was the Earth’s way of saving herself. She lightened the load, and at the same time, made it so we would understand each other better and maybe live with more care on the planet.”
“That makes as much sense as anything.” Cass looked around, and knew that much of what she was seeing would fall into unrecognizable ruin in the next few years. Not only people had been lost, but art, literature, music, technology, and myriad other expressions of human creation and ingenuity. The living would retain what they could, remember what they could, but in so many ways, they would be starting over. A brutal lesson for Earth’s children, to be sure. She tightened the straps of her backpack and moved forward with greater purpose, suddenly not wanting to talk. “We’d better pick it up.”
Luc fell in behind her, and they pushed on through the afternoon. Occasionally, gusts of wind brought a few drops of rain, but the bulk of the storm clouds swung to the north of them. Not until they crossed the Menominee River did they see evidence of living people. On the long, sloping hill to the west of the river, on what had once been a golf course, three tents had been set up, and small campfires smoldered amid long lines of drying fish. The unmistakable carcass of a zebra hung from a tree, headless and field-dressed. Cass and Luc exchanged startled glances.
“That’s right – the zoo wasn’t that far south of here.” Cass looked around. “There has to be someone close by, tending those fires.”
Luc, too, was looking all around them. He frowned. “I don’t feel attention on us. But I don’t think we should stop to chat, either. Just a hunch.”
“Good enough for me.” Cass closed her eyes for a moment and took in a long, slow breath. The presence of the dead was especially heavy here, and she wondered if these people were unknowingly holding lost souls near. Even through her cone of white light, the confusion, hostility and despair pulled at her spirits, dragged her thoughts into the dark. She shook herself, and gestured for Luc to take the lead. “I don’t want to freak you out, but there’s a lot of pressure here from the lost ones. Just keep following this street and keep your eyes peeled for trouble on the physical plane. I’ll just follow for a while, okay?”
Luc’s eyes snapped wide, then slid from side to side as if the ghosts were sneaking up on them from behind…which, in fact, they were. One of these days, Cass would have to ask how they sensed her, how they knew she could sense them. Impatiently, she gestured again, infected by their urgency. “Chop chop. Not a spot for lingering.”
They double-timed it across the bridge, past a gutted Target and a whole string of burned-out fast food places. Cass kept her eyes fixed on Luc’s backpack. As she walked, she sang the doxology she’d learned as a child under her breath. The short hymn acted as a mantra, focused and soothed her. A memorial garden stretched along the south side of the road, and Luc looked at her over his shoulder, tilting his head towards the arched gate. “Need to rest?”
“Nope. Onward.”
The farther west they walked, the more upscale the businesses became. What houses they could see also increased in size, many of them sporting tennis or basketball courts. Cass estimated they’d come fourteen or fifteen miles when 190 curved gently to the south to cross the Fox River. Suddenly, Luc stopped. He made a startled sound, and his hand shot out to grip her upper arm.
“Cass! Look!”
She followed the direction of his gaze. There, in the waving grass on the bank of the gentle little river, crouched a little girl. She was naked except for a pair of filthy, lime-green shorts, and her white-blonde hair was a tangled nimbus around her head. She was eating a fish raw. As if she sensed their eyes on her, she stood abruptly, dropping the fish. For a frozen second, they all stared at each other. Then, she was gone, the top of her head barely visible as she ran through the undulating grass.
“No! We won’t hurt you! Please come back!” Cass looked at Luc. “She must be alone. We can’t leave her.”
Without a word, Luc vaulted the guard rail and ran after her. Cass followed, tripping several times when the grass snagged around her ankles, falling flat-out once and startling a pair of herons into flight. Ahead of
her, she could hear Luc calling first to the girl, then back to Cass.
“Where are you? Hurry up!”
Cass blundered out of the grass and into a parking lot, breathless. Across the street, a chain link fence and a dark scoreboard marked an abandoned baseball park. “Did you see where she went?”
Luc nodded, pointing to a group of houses on the other side of the ballpark before he took off again. “I didn’t see which one she went into, but I think I can track her. Hurry – she’s so fast!”
Her hiking boots pounded the pavement and her backpack bounced painfully until she tightened the straps on the fly. At some point, she’d dropped Veda’s walking stick. They ran down the asphalt path separating the overgrown ball fields, emerging on the other side to more grass and trees bordering a once-affluent neighborhood. Luc scanned for a moment, then pointed. “There.”
He jogged through the grass towards a Tuscan-style home, following a trail too faint for Cass to see. They passed a swimming pool filled with brackish, black water, and slowed to a walk. Cass was breathing like a bellows and coated from head to toe with sweat in the thick, afternoon air. She swiped at her face with her shoulder, and put her hand on Luc’s arm.
“Let me go first. Maybe she’ll be less scared of a woman.”
Luc nodded and pointed towards a door that led to a small courtyard. A no-longer functional fountain in the middle of the space had been planted with vegetables, though the bed looked overgrown and neglected. Cass moved towards the door into the house, which stood ajar. She stepped inside, and gave her eyes a moment to adjust before calling out.
“Hello? Little girl? We just want to help you, I promise.” Cass paused and looked around. The kitchen had been a beauty, with vibrant, Mexican-themed tile and deep blue walls, but it was a disaster now. Garbage overflowed everywhere – empty boxes and cans of food, and fish bones. Lots of fish bones. They crunched underfoot as she took another step forward. “Hello?”
“You stay right where you are!”
Cass gasped and spun to the right. A woman stood in the shadows of a doorway, a pistol wobbling in her hand. Behind her, the little girl had both arms wrapped around one of the woman’s legs. The woman tried to take a step forward, then swore and swatted at the little girl’s hands.
“For Christ’s sake, Annalise, let go!” She shoved the little girl away from her, then straightened and pointed the pistol at Cass again. “What the hell you want?”
Cass held her hands out, the universal sign for “Please don’t hurt me.” The woman’s hair was as blonde and wild as the little girl’s, and there was something very, very off about her eyes. “I just wanted to make sure your little girl was okay – we – I thought she was alone.” Instinct made her conceal Luc’s presence. “You said her name is Annalise? That’s such a pretty name.”
The woman squinted at her. “You can’t have her. Told you people already, she’s just fine. For fuck’s sake, give a kid a little independence, a little responsibility, and it’s everybody’s business, how you parent. So you can stick your foster care where the sun don’t shine.”
“Ah.” Cass had no idea what to do. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful parent.” She cast around desperately. Maybe if she could get the woman talking, she’d at least lower the pistol. “Your kitchen is beautiful – I love the colors.”
“Not my kitchen. Well.” She switched hands with the pistol, then smirked, then laughed, an awful, cackling sound. “Guess it is my kitchen now, huh? I worked here, before. Cleaned for them. They’re both dead.” She waved the pistol vaguely over her head, making Cass flinch. “Died in their beds, and they can rot there, far as I care. Always paid late, and the husband was always trying to grab my ass.” She cackled again. “Karma’s a bitch, huh? I hope he’s getting his sick ass grabbed by some big, hairy con in hell. Serve him right.”
Cass just stared at her hopelessly. This woman’s grasp on reality was, at best, occasional. The conditions she and her daughter were living in were animalistic, and all around them, Cass could feel the dark pressure of a very strong, very angry lost soul. Not knowing what else to do, she shifted her gaze to the little girl.
“Hi,” she said softly. “My name is Cass. I bet I scared you, huh?”
Annalise stared back at her for a moment, then nodded, the gesture so slight, Cass barely saw it.
“Did you catch all these fish?” Another tiny nod. “You must be a much better fisherwoman than me – I hardly ever catch anything, and I live on an island. How old are you, sweetie?”
A small, filthy hand splayed out shyly. Five. Another finger from the other hand made six, and Cass had to swallow, again and again. My God, what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t leave this little girl here, in this squalor, with a mother who probably had fallen far short of wonderful before the plague and its aftermath unhinged her mind. She returned her gaze to the woman.
“Let me help you,” she said softly. “Let me help you both.”
The pistol, which had been drooping, jerked up again. “I told you, we don’t need help! Don’t need foster care, don’t need your god damn rehab!” The woman’s voice grew even more shrill. “It’s not like I’m using now, is it? Can’t even find a stupid cigarette in this town no more.”
Oh, no. It all came together, then, and Cass understood the nature of the entity she could feel, pressing all around them, malevolent and greedy and gleeful. This woman was an addict, and whoever had latched onto her had been one as well. Veda had told her about this phenomenon. Before Cass’s time, Veda had worked in a homeless shelter and had quietly helped similarly burdened addicts free themselves of what Veda labeled, “Cling-ons, not to be confused with ‘Klingons,’ who are a passionate and warlike people.”
Sometimes, especially if an addict died of an overdose, they might linger and attach themselves to a person similarly afflicted, to continue their suffering vicariously. For the first time, Cass felt a spurt of pity for this dirty, unstable creature. She was trying to keep herself and her child alive, she’d lost the drugs she had certainly used as a crutch in easier times, and to make a desperate situation worse, she had this foul entity glomming onto her like a cancer. Cass couldn’t fix everything, but she could relieve her of one burden, at least.
“Look, I’m not here to take your daughter or anything like that. I can…well, I can talk to the dead.” Cass paused. How to proceed? “I just wonder if…well, if you feel someone close. Someone who died. Someone who was addicted to drugs.”
The woman’s head snapped back and she scowled. “What kind of nut job are you? Everybody died – didn’t you notice? Addicts and goody-two-shoes and everybody in between. Annalise says she sees people on the river sometimes, but I ain’t seen them. I ain’t seen nobody, not one person but Annalise, since this all started. I don’t leave this house. Buncha criminals and packs of dogs out there – that’s all that’s left.”
Okay, on to plan B. Cass made contact with the entity, wincing at the chaotic, disorganized energy. It took her long seconds to even come up with a gender. “A man.” A sense of arrogance and entitlement came through, ridiculous and unwarranted self-confidence. “Probably a pretty cocky guy. Loved to party. Good-looking.” She was guessing, but the look on the woman’s face told her she was getting warmer. Then, clear as a chiming bell, a name came through. “Aaron. His name was Aaron.”
And all hell broke loose.
The woman’s face contorted with what Cass would always know, from that moment on, was killing rage. Her complexion flushed a deep, brick red, and her eyes were suddenly magnified by tears. Betrayal, desperate loneliness, terror and grief: the woman’s emotions sucker-punched Cass and left her gasping.
“That son of a bitch! That rat bastard! He’s here?” She looked around wildly. “Aaron, you mother-fucker, you show yourself!” She fired the pistol, two shots in quick succession, the percussions obscenely loud. Cass screamed – she couldn’t help it – and dropped to a crouch, hands over her ringing ears.
The wo
man spun around again, waving the pistol in an erratic arc. “You left me,” she howled. “You left me alone to deal with all this, you worthless piece of shit! I needed you!” She started to sob brokenly. “I needed you, God damn you to hell!”
Cass stayed down in her crouch but held her hand out. “Please,” she said, her voice nearly strangled by terror. “Please, just put the gun down. I can help you talk to Aaron.”
The woman froze, then turned her head slowly, her eyes narrowing on Cass. “How do you know Aaron?” she hissed. Her chest started to heave. “Are you fucking him? Are you one of his whores? Fucking him to score smack?” She brought the pistol up again, this time pointed right between Cass’s eyes. “I’ll kill you, you dirty –”
Her lips never formed the curse. Instead, they rounded in a soundless “Oh,” as she looked down at the bright red flower of blood, blooming in the center of her chest. She staggered, dropped to her knees, then fell forward onto her hands, the pistol clattering as it skittered away across the floor. Cass stared at an arrow, streaked with blood and quivering, lodged in the wall behind where the woman had been standing. She was aware of a curious detachment as her brain tried to come up with logical explanations for what she was seeing. There was an arrow. It was stuck in the wall. A rustle from the doorway behind her made her turn her head. Luc took one halting step, then another, his face a rictus of horror. Was he hurt, too? Should she go to him? What should she do?
The woman fell heavily onto her side, then rolled to her back. Her face spasmed in agony, but still, she made no sound. Cass crawled to her side. The woman held her hand out, and Cass took it automatically. Their eyes met, and Cass felt destiny shift and settle into a new shape around her.
“You,” she whispered. “We know each other from the time before time, don’t we? You brought me here. Brought us both here.”