Starblood (The Starblood Trilogy)

by Carmilla Voiez

  She struggles back to her feet and heads for her wardrobe. Grabbing a baggy jumper and ankle length skirt, she starts to get changed. Her mouth tastes bitter. She will brush her teeth while she waits for the kettle to boil. The kitchen is tidy. The washing up all clean and put away. Did I do that? She fills and starts the kettle then tiptoes to the bathroom. She can hear people moving around in Sarah’s room. Low whispers scratch at the peripheral of her hearing. She wonders what they are saying, but dares not eavesdrop. Bolting the bathroom door behind her, she feels a little safer, a little less the intruder in her own home. Her purple toothbrush rests beside Raven’s black one. The neat little hole, which used to house Sarah’s is empty. She douses the brush with water and squeezes too much paste onto its bristles, then scrubs her teeth until her gums bleed. Pink foam fills the basin. She knows she should stop now, open the bathroom door and make the cups of tea, but she just keeps brushing. Her eyes drip tears.

  The urge to phone her own mother overtakes her. Hastily spitting, she rinses her brush under the tap. The landing is empty. Hushed voices still seep from Sarah’s room. What are they doing in there? Donna searches for her bag and phone. It must be somewhere. She doesn’t want to use the hallway phone, not enough privacy. Checking her bedroom, she sees it at the foot of her divan. The phone feels light in her hand. She feels frightened of the weight of her words. Her mum doesn’t know yet. What will she say? How will she feel? Murders don’t happen in Mum’s world. People are nice to each other. They bake cakes and help out at community fêtes.

  She carries the phone to the kitchen; its unlit screen reflects her shadow. Her own movements mesmerise her. Pouring water onto teabags, she forgets to phone her mum and remembers instead the time Sarah told her she was leaving Steve. Her own sense of relief had been overwhelming. She couldn’t repress a smile and a hope that now things could be better. The two of them might get closer. She could help Sarah through this and Sarah would see how happy Donna could make her. Sarah had seen the smile. Her anger ripped Donna from the space they shared. It sent her shooting like a meteor from the room. When Sarah emerged hours later from her bedroom there was blood on the sleeves of her shirt. Donna had been more careful with her friend’s feelings from then. Leaving Steve had been the best and the worst thing Sarah had done, until now.

  Deep amber scum floats on the surfaces of the drinks. Donna plunges a spoon into each cup and removes the bag, squeezing it over the sink rather than into the cups. Trails of brown liquid drip onto the counter. ‘Fuck,’ she growls under her breath and reaches for a dishcloth. It is dry but she doesn’t bother to wet it. Splodges spread as she tries to wipe them away. Unable to care any longer what the kitchen looks like, she returns the discoloured dishcloth to the corner of the sink.

  She sniffs the milk. It smells rancid. She looks for another carton but all she can find is Raven’s soya milk. It doesn’t smell so she uses that instead. The tea looks thin and dark. It will have to do.

  Donna considers knocking on the bedroom door but realises she is in no hurry to see those people again. Instead she takes two trips to carry the mugs and her phone into the living room. Settling on the sofa she feels Raven’s presence beside her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Raven. For what it’s worth, I miss you too.’

  Her mobile squats on the coffee table. I should have phoned on Sunday. Why did I put it off? Donna takes a sip of her warm, throat-coating tea and picks up the phone.

  ‘Mum, it’s Donna,’ she says as the familiar voice recites her old phone number.

  ‘Donna! How are you? Mrs Rogers was just asking about you today. I meant to phone last week, dear, but it has been so busy here.’

  Donna can hear her mother’s smile. She wants to listen to the chatter, the updates on people she only has the vaguest recollection of ever meeting. She doesn’t want to share her news. Eventually the excited voice finishes and there is a pregnant silence. What did my mother ask? Oh yes – how are you? How is Sarah?

  ‘Not good actually, Mum,’ Donna says at last. Her voice carries no volume. She hopes that maybe her mother might hear different words, happier words. ‘Raven is dead.’

  ‘Oh gosh, no!’ Donna’s mother’s voice vibrates with the same shock and the same pain Donna has been feeling. This is real, the voice tells her. This is important. People care. ‘When, how?’

  ‘I-I-I don’t know how to say it, Mum…but it hurts so much.’ Donna shakes. A door opens and closes in the hallway. Shadows move in her periphery vision. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. There are people here. I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Baby, don’t go. Tell me what’s wrong. Can I help? I’ll get on the train, Donna. I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too, Mum.’ Donna bites her lip and severs the connection. She turns towards the hall and sees Sarah’s mother hovering in the doorway. She looks like a hawk. Her features fixed in a tight scowl, unchanging even when Donna turns her tear-blotched face towards her.

  ‘Your teas are here.’ Donna grabs a cushion and squeezes it to her belly. Looking at her knees, she rocks herself. Her only thought is that her mum will soon arrive.

  Chapter 35

  Star sleeps in the car. Her dreams are full of Raven’s face cracking open like an eggshell in her hands. Rivers of blood pour from her fingertips. Her dead friend turns to her. Raven’s eyes are milky white and her right cheek and jaw are so badly smashed that her face hangs lower on that side, her mouth a triangle of pain.

  ‘We will find you,’ the horror promises.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Star pleads.

  Raven stands unsteadily on her feet. Her clothing stinks of urine, her face and shoulder covered in blood and gore; more drips from her mouth onto her chest and boots. She moves closer to Star. Star tries to leave but she is pinned against the closed toilet door. Like a drowning fish, Star’s mouth opens and closes in silent pleas.

  Raven presses her cold body against Star and whispers in her ear. ‘The evil is inside you. They put it there. All is death and darkness. You cannot escape. Why run?’

  ‘What else can I do?’ she asks the phantom.

  ‘Tear it out!’ screams Raven.

  ‘Are you all right?’ a voice from beside her asks.

  Star opens her eyes and tries to focus. It is dark and Lilith’s face is obscured by shadows. The movement of the car creates ripples across her features.

  ‘I had a nightmare,’ Star says.

  ‘Go back to sleep. You’ll have better dreams,’ says Lilith.

  She is right. The dream Star slips into, as sleep lays its claim on her once more, is an erotic one.

  When Star wakes again the first light of dawn pierces through the mist.

  ‘Do you want to stop?’ Star asks Lilith. ‘You’ve been driving all night.’

  ‘Rest would be a welcome change,’ Lilith answers.

  ‘How far north are we?’

  ‘We’ve just passed Perth. I thought we’d head for the mountains from here.’

  ‘It looks like we’re low on petrol,’ Star says, noticing the dial.

  ‘Do you have money?’

  ‘Not enough for food and petrol,’ Star answers.

  ‘There’s a hotel coming up. Maybe we should swap cars.’

  ‘Steal someone’s car?’ Star asks, shocked.

  ‘Do you think this car belongs to us?’ Lilith laughs.

  Star sits in silence. A week ago she was working for a telecommunications call centre. Now she is on the run and riding in a stolen car with a woman she barely knows. Little things about Lilith start to worry her: the strange room, her reaction to the murder, the way she changes clothes without possessing any. Things Star casually brushed aside while in the arms of her lover crowd against the gates of her sanity, trying to break through. She is glad she is not alone. Lilith has taken charge and done things she could never have done. Without Lilith she would be hitching lifts and risking her safety with every new driver, or she would already be in a police cell. Lilith acts withou
t complaint. If anything she seems happy to do it, to give up everything for Star. Pushing her doubts into the back of her mind, Star balances her petty worries against how amazing Lilith is, and leans across to kiss the woman’s cheek.

  ‘Thank you,’ Star says.

  ‘What for?’ Lilith smiles, turning her face to glance at Star.

  ‘Everything.’

  Star stands shivering in the hotel driveway while Lilith exchanges the cars. She is Louise to Lilith’s Thelma: the look out. Although what she is looking for is hazy, the police or security guards, maybe.

  They take the B roads for a while, trying to stay hidden in case the theft is reported quickly. The roads are almost empty, and their progress is swift. Lonely farmhouses and remote hamlets fade into the distance behind them. Star’s eyes focus on the scenery, trying to push away the images inside her mind. As they enter a village she spots an open corner shop.

  ‘Stop,’ Star says. ‘We’ll get some food.’

  Star enters the tiny shop alone. As she walks through the door she passes the cigarette booth and cash desk. Glancing over, she catches the eye of an ancient-looking woman with a strangely jutting chin. Her crumpled expression makes her look as though she’s just finished chewing rocks. Star looks away, remembering why she is here, and wonders whether her photograph will have made it to the national news. The shopkeeper’s eyes follow Star as she moves along the aisles. Keeping her face down, she picks up packets of biscuits, apples and bottled water. She wonders what Lilith will want to eat, probably not much. The basket feels heavy on her tired arm. She struggles with it as she makes her way back to the till.

  ‘Five-twenty,’ the woman says, staring at her.

  Star counts out change. They still have some money left.

  ‘Just passing through are ye?’ the woman asks.

  Star nods and grabs her bags. She feels the woman’s eyes follow her as she leaves the shop and is glad to get back into the car.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she tells Lilith. ‘That woman gives me the creeps.’

  ‘She probably feels the same way about you, sweetie. You’re looking a little haggard today.’

  ‘Well you can go in next time,’ Star snaps, feeling angry and humiliated. Why do I look haggard when you look as beautiful as ever? ‘Let’s find somewhere to stop a while.’

  They continue north along minor roads. The landscape changes. Forests are darker, the grass coarser and the road twists between steep banks of both. Sometimes they rise up towards the pale sky. At other times they plunge downwards towards rivers. Beneath them, the wheels bounce and stagger over uneven surfaces. Loose stones spit onto the underbelly of the car with loud cracks; the ticking of a bomb, as their journey weaves its way towards the final explosion.

  As they round a hairpin bend a remote cottage rises out of the mist. No car is parked outside and the garden looks abandoned. Lilith pulls up behind the building, careful to hide the car from the road. Turning off the engine, she looks across at Star.

  ‘Why are we stopping here?’ Star asks her.

  ‘It looks like a holiday home. I thought we’d check it out.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Star hesitates.

  ‘Wait here if you want. I’ll check it out.’

  Sitting alone in the car, Star looks towards the woods, which surround her. The shadows between the trees are full of movement. Even now, in the mid-morning light, their darkness oppresses her. Half of her wants to stop, get clean and rest. The other half wants to keep moving, fearing the unforgiving judgement of the forest.

  The cottage is small, just one storey and the perfect size for a holiday home. The walls are grey brick and mortar and the windows are tiny. She wonders whether there will be warmth inside, physical or emotional will suffice.

  Soft taps on her window make her jump. She turns and sees Lilith grinning at her. She opens the car door and stretches her legs.

  ‘It looks like no one has been inside for months,’ Lilith says. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Star asks.

  ‘Come and see for yourself.’ Lilith walks towards the front of the cottage.

  Star puts her bag on the front seat and follows. There was a rose garden here in the summer months. Stalks of sharp thorns jut towards her as she skirts around the flowerbeds. The door has been forced. Splinters of wood scratch the air. A cold, more biting than the one outside, presses against her and makes her shiver. Damp air fills her nostrils. Inside a tiny sitting room adjoins an even smaller kitchen and the two doors at the other end of the room promise a bathroom and bedroom. Pulling her jumper tighter around herself, she wanders to the kitchen. The half-sized fridge is empty.

  ‘There’s a fire here,’ Lilith says. ‘I’ll gather some wood if you’re cold.’

  Star nods and sinks into one of the two armchairs in front of the fireplace. She knows she should offer to go into the woods and collect branches for the fire; Lilith has not slept. Her lover should be resting while she organises these things, and makes sure Lilith is comfortable, but she cannot drag her tired body back onto her feet.

  She falls asleep feeling cold and alone but wakes feeling warm and in love. Fire dances in the grate and Lilith sits on the chair opposite. Lilith’s eyes are closed, her beautiful face relaxed, body moulded onto the chair, cradled by it, like a baby in its mother’s arms. She is completely silent, her breathing so soft that Star cannot hear a whisper.

  Star returns to the car to retrieve her bag. The sky is darkening. She checks the clock in the car. It is five. She tries not to look into the darkness between the trees. Hundreds of unseen eyes watch her every movement from the shadows. Shivering, she hurries back to the warm house.

  The forced door will not shut properly. Seeing a metal box in the porch, she rests it against the broken wood to keep it closed. Then she checks the rest of the house. The left hand door leads to a bathroom with a tub, which beckons to her filthy frame. The stiff tap hisses and splutters. She cups her hand under the flow until she feels warm water hit her fingers. Leaving it to fill, she checks the second door.

  The chimney backs onto the wall of the bedroom. It feels cosy. The bed has been made with blankets. It reminds Star of her childhood, tucked into bed by her Mother with a story and a kiss. The memory feels distant to her, as if it belongs to another lifetime and she wonders how her Mum and Dad are feeling. Have they heard about Raven? Her thoughts wander to Donna and Freya and she feels sick to think of their suffering. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she weeps.

  The sound of gurgling water reminds her of the bath she has left running. She hurries to the bathroom, wiping her face in her sleeve. The bath is full but not overflowing. Before she steps into the hot water she returns to the kitchen. She checks the cutlery drawer and, when she finds it, takes a small, sharp paring knife with her.

  The water prickles her skin. Gritting her teeth, she sinks into the bath. Star feels a cleansing pleasure from the burning. Let it burn these feelings out of her, or let it drown her. She isn’t sure which solution she prefers.

  She lifts her left leg and pivots it. Watching the way the water runs in rivulets down her pale skin, she grabs the knife from the side of the bath and scratches the surface of her skin with its blade. She doesn’t stab at her leg, nor scratch too hard. Instead she enjoys the gentle sting of the continuous scratch. It takes a few seconds before the blood pushes through the damaged surface. When it does she plunges her leg into the hot water and gasps at the pain. She does the same with her right leg. It helps, but the dark thoughts are still there, just below the surface of her psyche, and she knows they are waiting to overwhelm her.

  Closing her eyes, she lets her head sink under the water. Dull slaps of waves echo around her. She holds her breath, wanting desperately to remain beneath the surface. Her lungs rebel, her body shifts and her face rises.

  Tiny, perfect spheres of water line her eyelashes, obscuring her sight. She sees a shadow in the room but cannot see its form. She brushes the water away and sees Lilith sta
nding over her.

  ‘May I join you?’ Lilith asks.

  Star nods and sits up to give her room. Discarding her clothes, Lilith stands naked. She steps into the bath and sits in the water. Lilith’s body shivers as the warmth washes over her skin.

  ‘You’ve been cutting yourself again.’ Lilith frowns at the threads of blood rising through the water.

  ‘Yes,’ Star answers.

  ‘Why do you do that?’ Lilith asks.

  ‘I guess the pain helps me.’

  ‘How?’ Lilith looks so innocent, sitting at the other end of the bathtub, unable to understand.

  ‘Life leaves me with a dull ache in my chest. Cutting externalises the pain. It feels…more manageable when it’s on the outside,’ she pauses to see if Lilith understands. ‘It’s good to feel something.’

  Lilith moves her body closer. ‘If you want to feel something how about this?’ she says, lifting Star’s leg at the knee and licking the cut. ‘Does that help the dull ache?’

  Star smiles. ‘One ache disappears and another surfaces when you do that,’ she says.

  ‘Where does it surface, my love?’ Lilith asks.

  ‘Here,’ Star answers, pointing to her stomach.

  Lilith twists her body and kneels in the tight space. She submerges her face and starts to kiss Star’s stomach. Star strokes her hair. It feels sticky, like seaweed floating in the water. Star sinks under the surface again and their faces press together. A kiss shared under the water fills Star’s mouth with liquid. She realises her mistake and tries to push Lilith away. Lilith doesn’t seem to realise Star’s distress and hovers above her, kissing her face and mouth. Star tries to shout, but no sound escapes her drowning lungs. She thrashes her arms. Fear and panic take over. No, I don’t want to drown. I didn’t mean it. I want to live forever, here in the arms of my lover. Please Lilith, let me get up, let me breathe. Lilith moves away, pulling Star up with her. Star bends double and coughs water from her burning lungs.