Monstrous (Blood of Cain Book 1)

by J. L. Murray

  “Why did you let us take your kids, then?” I said.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. They killed Alyssa. I know they did. They killed my mom. And the papers said you were dead, and the mirrors, so I figured I was just going nuts. If Julia wanted the girls, I could at least trust her. I couldn’t trust myself, the things I was thinking of doing. Oh my God, my own kids.”

  “It’s only natural, Kev,” said Bea, “Anyone would have those thoughts.”

  His eyes were tearing up and he leaned over and put his hands on his knees for support. He seemed to notice Roo for the first time. And for once, she wasn’t laughing. She seemed to be trying to hide behind Dekker. “What’s wrong with her?” he said, suspicion in his voice.

  “Calm down,” I said. “There’s more to this than you know. They took your kids to get me.”

  “Calm down? Calm the fuck down? Those are my babies in there!”

  “Stand down,” said Dekker, stepping between us.

  “Jesus, stop defending me,” I said, stepping around him. Kev and I were face to face. “Look, Roo’s not herself, if you know what I mean. But Bea’s going to save her. She’s going to put the real Roo back in her body, do you understand?”

  He blinked and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

  “She’s one of them?” he said. He was looking at Roo. “She helped them take my kids, didn’t she?”

  “She’s helping us get them back,” I said. “Please, don’t do anything crazy. I’m going to go in there and get them back.”

  Kev hadn’t looked away from Roo.

  “She took my kids.”

  “Come on, man,” said Dekker, putting a hand on Kev’s shoulder. Kev wrenched away.

  “She took my kids.”

  “Kevin Kroger,” said Bea. “I’ve known you since you were a boy. And I’m telling you to calm the fuck down. There’s more going on here.”

  “She took my fucking kids!” he said, spittle flying out of his mouth. “That bitch took my kids and now a bunch of soulless fucks are holed up with them. My angels. The only parts of Alyssa I’ve got left.” He finally looked at me again. “I never should have let you take them. I wanted you to take them. I was afraid of my own daughters, afraid of what I’d do to them. What kind of man am I? What kind of man?” He was crying now, sloppy tears sliding down his face, his shoulders heaving. He looked back at Roo.

  “Keep him away from me,” Roo said. “We have a deal. I help you, you help me.”

  “She took my kids,” Kev said, his voice soft now, almost a whisper.

  “Help us get them back,” I said. “If you want them back, help us. We sort of have...a plan.”

  “Sort of have a plan,” he echoed. “She took my kids and you sort of have a plan.” He straightened, looking at each of us. “You’re all fucking crazy. That bitch is evil.” He turned and looked at his truck.

  I felt a raven come down heavily on my shoulder, but Kev didn’t even notice. He was walking slowly toward his truck, as if in a stupor, muttering to himself. He grabbed something out of the cab and, holding it, walked back toward us. As he got closer, I saw what was happening. And then I heard what he was muttering.

  “She took my kids,” he said under his breath. “She took my kids, she took my kids.”

  “No, stop,” I said. “Stop this, Kev. They all know we’re here now. All this yelling.”

  I could see silhouettes in the dark glass across the street. Head-shaped shadows watching us.

  “Everything is ruined,” I said. “If you help us, maybe we can get them back. All of them. We can save more than your girls.”

  Kev raised the shotgun he’d taken out of the cab and pointed it at Roo, still walking.

  “Stop right there,” Dekker said. He had his gun out of the holster and pointed at Kev. Bea had her rifle pointed at Kev’s chest, though her face told me she had her doubts about using it. But Kev was still walking, stopping only when the shotgun was resting against Roo’s head.

  She was screaming, sobbing, hissing. Every emotion passed across her face, until, finally, she started to laugh. The laugh filled the air around us, seeming to surround us, rising higher and higher in pitch.

  “Your kids are already dead,” Roo said, her face a grinning skull. “Just like your wife.”

  There was no time to say anything else. Kev pulled the trigger.

  And Roo exploded.

  chapter twenty-one

  “

  Fuck!” screamed Dekker. “What the fuck?”

  I couldn’t hear out of one ear. I was covered with hot, wet, sticky globules that were quickly growing cold, in my eyes and in my hair, sliding down my face. I could feel small shards embedded in my skin. I looked down, as if in a dream. A dark puddle spread from the body, with most of its head gone. I moved away to avoid the blood.

  “That wasn’t her,” I said, and my voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Someone was screaming. “That wasn’t her. We were going to save her. It wasn’t her.”

  The screaming was growing louder. Or maybe I was just hearing it better. I looked up dumbly. Beatrice was on the ground, her knees in the puddle, trying to cradle Roo’s head, but it wasn’t there any longer. Her mouth was open and I realized she was the one who was screaming. My hearing was coming back and I looked over at another set of noises.

  Kevin Kroger was walking across the parking lot across the street. He didn’t hesitate, each step seeming to echo, even above Bea’s screaming. The door to the bar was opening. Kev put the shotgun against his shoulder, pointing it right at the door. Someone stepped out, something in their hand. The shot rang out, distinct and serene and perfect. The man fell and Kev loaded the gun with more shells, finishing just as someone else stepped out the door. I felt someone pulling on me.

  “Frankie, get down!” Dekker was screaming, pulling me toward Kev’s pickup. I let him pull me, but wrenched out of his grasp when I saw Bea, still crying over Roo’s body. I ran to her, pulling her back.

  “No, I can’t leave her!” she screamed.

  “Bea, please,” I whispered in her ear.

  She seemed to wake up then, looking around, letting herself be pulled behind the truck. A flurry of shots echoed in the parking lot as Dekker pulled at the loose knot of rope he’d tied at my wrists. I needed to know what was happening and peered over the truck.

  Kev, still standing, was surrounded. He was staggering, favoring his left side. He raised the shotgun and fired again and another man fell. A figure on the other side raised a hand and fired, the sound shaking me, seeming to explode in my own chest. I saw the shot hit Kev’s leg and he fell to his knees, his scream sharp and hoarse.

  “I can’t let him do this alone,” I said. I opened the passenger door of the truck, pulling the rifle from the gun rack in the back windshield. I checked the magazine, filling my pockets with bullets from a box in the center console.

  “How many guns does he have in there?” said Dekker.

  “Welcome to Montana, son,” I said.

  “I thought you didn’t know how to use guns,” he said.

  “She grew up here,” said Bea.

  I shrugged. “We have to get those kids out of there. Bea, you stay here.”

  “No,” she said, straightening. Her own rifle was held firm in her hands. “I made you do this. If you go over there, so do I.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Dekker, keep an eye on her.”

  “Frankie,” he said, his voice tired. “What are you doing?”

  “What I came here to do,” I said. “Surrender.”

  And before he could stop me, I stepped out from behind the pickup and started walking across the street. Kev was still alive, I could see him kneeling. He was still going, trying to load his shotgun. The cartridge slipped out of his hands and fell to the ground. I could see the men and women circling him, they were laughing, chatting giddily.

  “Get away from him, you soulless fucks,” I said, raising the rifle. I touched the trigger, wrap
ping my finger around it. Just like riding a bicycle.

  The crowd froze when they saw me. After a moment, someone stepped toward me.

  “We’re not supposed to touch her,” I heard someone hiss at him.

  “I’m not going to kill her,” said the man. As I walked toward him, I saw he was wearing a trucker hat and I recognized him as one of the odd people from the bar earlier. “But damn if she don’t look delicious. You gonna shoot me, honey?” He giggled, an unnatural, high-pitched squeal. I squeezed the trigger, the kick of the gun tapping my shoulder. But I hit my mark, the man was on the ground, holding his belly and shrieking. I slid the bolt, ejecting the round and slipped another bullet in.

  “We’ll make your friend pay for this, bitch,” said a woman, holding a large knife in front of her. She stepped over to Kev and put the blade against his throat. I aimed and squeezed the trigger. The woman screamed in rage as the bullet nicked the side of her scalp. The rifle was an old one, probably just something Kev kept around as a backup. I slid the bolt, knocking another bullet in. I aimed and she stepped away from Kev.

  “They’re lying to you,” I said. “For the record. If you die here, there’s no going back. You don’t get to keep on living if the soul you’re attached to is dead. Idiots.”

  A few of the crowd were whispering.

  “She’s lying,” said a voice, and even in the darkness, I knew him.

  “Shawn.”

  “Hey, Frankie,” he said, then laughed. I aimed the rifle. “You’re not going to kill your old friend, are you, Frankie?” He stepped toward me, a shotgun at his side. “I know I’m not him, not really,” he said, still walking toward me. “But I see what he knows. Did you know he turned you in? All those years ago. He told the cops all about you. He didn’t tell them about the car, though. But it wasn’t because he was keeping it for you.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “No, he was going to sell the car down the line at some point. But he was too scared. You believe that shit? You’re in prison, you’re dead, and this asshole is still afraid of you. That’s some impression you made. Makes me wonder what you really are.”

  “None of your fucking business,” I said.

  “You’re not going to shoot me, Frankie.” He was close enough to see his face. Shawn’s face. But it wasn’t really him. He smiled, his eyes shining in the dark.

  “You don’t know much about me, do you?” I said. “Because if you did, you’d know why Shawn didn’t sell my shit.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m just mean enough to put a bullet in him. Even after I’m dead.”

  I squeezed the trigger. Shawn screamed before the shot even rang out. He dropped the shotgun, holding his right shoulder.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” he said, but I was already hovering over him, looking down. I kicked the shotgun away. Shawn’s face looked up at me, rage and fear in his eyes.

  “I don’t think I will, you creepy fuck.” I used the butt of the rifle like a golf club and smacked him in the head. He went limp and closed his eyes. If it didn’t kill him, maybe it would save Shawn’s life.

  A woman was screaming, running at me, her arms outstretched, as if she wanted to strangle me from a distance. Ellie. I smacked her across the face with the rifle, then slid the bolt, took another bullet from my pocket. I aimed at a burly man aiming a handgun at Kev.

  “Why haven’t you killed him yet?” I said. “You’ve had time.”

  They were all frozen, as if someone had pressed pause on this horror movie. No one was shooting, no even seemed to breathe. They were all staring at me.

  “That’s a hell of a way to help me,” slurred Kev, weaving back and forth, still on his knees. He’d managed to get a cartridge in the shotgun now and aimed it at the woman nearest to him, a crossbow in her hands.

  “Where are my girls?” he said thickly. “Tell me where my fucking kids are!”

  The woman giggled. “Don’t worry, they’re coming.”

  Kev looked at me, confused. I was just as disoriented. What the fuck was going on? The door of the bar squealed open once more, light pouring out into the darkness. A silhouette stood there, a woman, with two smaller figures on either side of her.

  “I told them to wait,” said my mother’s voice. She took a step forward, pushing the smaller, sobbing figures in front of her. I squinted to see the two girls.

  “Let them go,” I said. “You don’t want those kids.”

  “But I wanted you, sweet Frankie,” she said. “And wouldn’t it be fun to make these kids watch their father die? Just like old times. Let them watch as we land each blow, let them see the life go out of his eyes, let them see the realization dawn on him as he realizes there’s no escape. Do you remember what fun we had, Frankie?”

  I aimed the rifle between her eyes.

  “You think I won’t kill you,” she said, the brightness from within the bar behind her casting the others in a garish light.

  “It’s more like I just don’t give a shit,” I said. “But I do know one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I didn’t know if I’d be able to kill you,” I said. “With my mother's face. I left you once for dead, but that’s not the same as looking in your eyes and putting you down.”

  “Put the rifle down, Frankie,” said Ruth Mourning. “Or I’ll kill these babies.”

  “You’re going to kill them either way,” I said. “Ruth.”

  “True,” she said.

  “I wasn’t finished.”

  “Oh, pray, do go on.”

  Kev was sobbing, looking at his kids. I edged past him, standing in front of him.

  “The thing is,” I said, forcing myself to keep chatting. Making myself talk to her instead of throwing myself at her. “You’re not her. And I’ve been where she is. Even if she gets her body back, she’s not going to be the same.”

  “She never loved you. You know that. She loved Rebecca and she loved Jesus. But not you. She thought you were an aberration.”

  I turned quickly and shot a man in an orange vest in the chest, then turned back. Staring straight at my mother’s face, I slid the bolt, the echo of the spent bullet on the asphalt ringing through the air. I slid another bullet into the chamber.

  “What are you trying to accomplish, Frankie? Do you want me to kill these children?”

  The girls squealed as she tightened her grip.

  “Jesus Christ, what is this?” said Kev.

  “This is an intervention, Mr. Kroger,” said the woman with my mother’s voice. “Or maybe a family reunion. After all, I’m all Frankie has left.”

  I felt the bile rise in my throat. I saw my father’s face flash through my mind, covered in blood.

  Run, Frankie, he had said back then. Run, Frankie. I’d run, for sure. I’d run hard and fast and took as many evil bastards with me as I could. I looked around me. There were six left in the circle around me, not counting Ruth. But I could see that her bavuah were afraid of me.

  “I can’t run, Daddy,” I said under my breath. “Not anymore.”

  I pulled out the knife and put it to my own throat.

  “You want her back,” I said. “Your precious Rebecca. She was Becky to me. Before the lake, before any of it. Before you came, she was Becky. She was my blood, and she was the meanest, shittiest person I’ve ever met in my life. That was before she lost her soul.”

  “And then she was Harishona,” said Ruth, reverence in her voice. “My creator. My goddess. She is the reason I am. The reason I exist.”

  “I killed her,” I said, grinning. “She’s dead because of me.”

  “So shall these children be.”

  “Go ahead. Kill them.”

  “What?” said Kev. “No!”

  “Kill them,” I said, “and I’ll bury this knife in my own throat. I’ll bleed out right here on this pavement. Die by my own hand. And I think you know what that means.”

  I saw her twitch. It was dark, but I c
ould almost see the terrified expression on her face.

  “At least you’ll be dead,” she said, but it wasn’t convincing.

  “I know what you want,” I said. I had a weight in my stomach. My head was reeling and I was having a hard time breathing. Seeing her here, now, I knew I could kill her. This hate flowing through my veins felt like acid, and it was dissolving away everything good in me. It was changing me into something else.

  “I want you to die,” said Ruth.

  “Correction: You want to kill me.” I twisted the tip of the knife so a tiny drop of blood welled up and ran down my throat. Ruth’s followers gasped. I felt the ground tremble. A raven swooped down and landed at my feet. I could feel the strangeness in my head again, a scratching against the inside of my skull. A beating in my chest I could feel but couldn’t hear. I shook my head.

  “I can settle for you being dead,” said Ruth, nudging the children forward. A flake of snow drifted down and fell against my cheek.

  “But even more than that,” I said, “you want Rebecca alive. The way she was, not the way Cain has her now. A shadow of her former self.”

  Did she twitch? Did I shock her?

  “You didn’t know?” I said. I felt myself laugh, but it came from a place deep inside I didn't recognize, where I never dared look. Three more ravens landed around me.

  “You’re lying.”

  “Daddy, I'm scared,” said one of the twins. Was she Kyra or Brianna? I still didn’t know.

  “Let them go,” said Kev. “This is between the two of you. Let us go home.”

  “Let them all go, Mom,” I said. The ground definitely shook that time. The group gathered around Kevin Kroger looked to the sky, as if all the answers were there. “Did you tell them they could go back to the way things were?”

  “They can’t,” she said, something strange in her voice. “Once they’re here, they’re here.”

  “And yet, Beatrice brought the twins back.”

  “Is that true?” A woman stepped forward, looking from me to Ruth and back again.

  “Cat’s out of the bag now,” I said.

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “He said it was truly impossible.”