“Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll be careful.”
Rakel’s dad turned the sound back up on the TV as she walked from the living room. He was satisfied, at least for the moment, that his daughter wasn’t in any danger. But he was worried.
Rakel smiled as she walked to her room, deleting all of Zach’s texts and missed calls from her phone as soon as she shut her door.
She was satisfied, too.
20
The next afternoon, Zach pulled into Kayman’s and parked next to Rakel’s Mustang. He’d worked up the courage to ask her out—dinner in Omaha’s Old Market was his plan—and he couldn’t wait to see her.
“Well, there he is,” Cora said as Zach walked into the store for the first time in what seemed like forever. “It’s good to have you back, Zach.”
“Thanks, Ms. H. You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to getting back to work.”
“Head to the office and I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rakel wasn’t at the cosmetics counter yet, and as he passed, he couldn’t help but think how much things had changed.
Rakel Anders. The stuck-up cosmetics clerk.
A couple of months ago, the pretty blonde working behind that counter wouldn’t give him the time of day. She was mean, spiteful, and—even though Zach didn’t like to think about it—had nearly gotten him killed.
Now, she was Rakel. His Rakel.
He pushed open the employee door and walked down the narrow hall toward the office. As he neared the employee lockers, he caught a familiar scent. He quietly peered around the corner and saw Rakel putting on her smock.
Zach didn’t say anything right away; rather, he stood quietly and watched. Rakel pulled the smock over her head, then fluffed her hair so it fell about her shoulders just right. She opened her locker door, and checked her appearance in a small mirror taped to the inside.
She caught a glimpse of Zach, and smiled at his reflection. “It’s not polite to stare,” she said.
“I know, but I can’t seem to help myself.”
She turned, flashed him a sly grin. “Good.” She stepped closer and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you’re back.”
*
Cora opened the employee door and saw Zach standing just outside the locker room. She watched Rakel brush past him, and noticed how anxious she looked, her mouth a taut, thin line. It was unusual, Cora thought, that Zach would be anywhere near that girl, being that the two of them rarely spoke to one another. And when they did, Rakel was usually mean-spirited about it.
Cora tried to catch Rakel’s eye, but Rakel quickly walked past, never once looking up. Zach stared after her, and didn’t look away until the employee door had swung shut. The look in his eyes—the look—was hard to miss.
“Zach, ready to head to the office?”
“Sure, Ms. H.”
Cora felt as if she’d interrupted Zach doing something that had upset Rakel, and found it odd that his demeanor hadn’t changed one bit when she’d walked in on them.
She joined Zach in the office and sat down. “There are still some items from the shipment last night that need to be put out on the floor,” she said, studying Zach’s eyes for any sign of nervousness, maybe a glimmer of embarrassment for being caught, if that was the right word. “It should be pretty slow, so you should be able to get most of it done.”
“Sure thing, Ms. H.”
Nothing there. Nothing at all. Just an eagerness in his eyes to get to work. “Well, get to it, mister.”
After Zach headed for the stockroom, Cora stood alone in the office. She felt sorry for the kid, as it was painfully obvious he was a loner. No girlfriend, no close friends coming into work to see him, nada. He seemed happy enough, though, and was always a willing, productive employee. She could always count on Zach to do what he was told, and to do it right, which was more than she could say for some of his coworkers. Even his parents—whom she’d met while visiting the hospital—seemed like good people.
But. There was almost always a but.
She recalled the night when Zach had reacted so strangely when she startled him, and she had seen such coldness in his eyes. Ever since that moment, right or wrong, she’d felt differently about Zach Regan.
Maybe she was overreacting. Zach was a nice kid. A little introverted, but nice. But then again, Cora figured people had probably said the same thing about Ted Bundy. Seeing the look on Rakel’s face as she rushed out of the employee locker room, walking right past her without saying a word, was troubling. Rakel might be a snot, and sometimes even worse, but she almost always said hello.
Something wasn’t right.
Cora decided to approach Rakel later in the shift to ask if something was going on between her and Zach.
*
As Zach wheeled his third cartload out onto the store floor, he noticed Rakel kneeling in front of one of the cosmetics shelves, hanging packages of fake fingernails on metal pegs.
“Hey, have you had your break yet?” he asked.
“Nope.” She glanced at the clock at the front of the store. “I’ll probably take it in a few minutes.” A shy grin. “Why are you asking?”
“I think I might have to take my break at the same time.”
“Oh, you do, do you? It’s a date, then.”
And there was his opening. It was clumsy, it was cliché, but it was the first time Zach had asked a girl out. “Speaking of dates, are you doing anything Saturday night?” Rakel didn’t answer right away, and when she did, it wasn’t what Zach expected to hear.
“It depends.”
For a second, Zach’s breath caught in his throat. “Depends?”
“Yeah, on whether or not you’re going to ask me out.”
He could breathe again. “I think I just did.”
“And it’s about time, Zachy. Come on, let’s take that break.” She quickly hung the last package of fake nails on a peg and walked with him to the break room. They sat across from each other at a small metal table.
“I was thinking dinner in the Old Market,” Zach said.
“I love downtown at this time of year.” She reached across the table, took his hand in hers. “But I don’t care where we go. Being with you is all I want.”
They heard the employee door swing open.
Rakel abruptly pulled her hand back. “Ms. H is coming.”
Zach turned toward the break room entrance, waiting to see Cora. He didn’t see Rakel’s expression change.
*
Cora walked into the break room—again surprised to see Zach and Rakel together—and immediately noticed the look on Rakel’s face, the same expression she’d seen earlier that evening. She knew now was the time to talk to the girl, but she needed Zach to leave. “Zach, have you finished all your carts yet?”
“I’m almost done. I’ve got a few left.”
“I need you to get them all finished tonight, okay? Thanks.” She was a little terse with him, which she instantly regretted, but it was quickest way she could get him to leave.
“Um, sure, Ms. H.” Zach pushed his chair back and walked out.
Rakel stood.
“Wait, Rakel, I need to talk to you for a minute about a new display I’d like you to put together.”
Cora waited a few awkward seconds until she heard the employee door swing shut. “Sit down, Rakel. I’ll be honest with you. There’s no new display. And I want you to be honest with me.”
“What’s wrong?” Rakel asked.
Rakel’s voice was shaky. “Is everything all right?” Cora asked.
“I’m fine, Ms. H.” Rakel glanced down at her hands, which Cora noticed were clenched tightly.
“Is Zach bothering you?” There it was, out in the open.
“No,” Rakel replied, a little too quickly. “He’s not.”
“Are you sure?” Cora asked. “I saw him staring at you in the locker room, and when you walked out you looked upset.” She tried to get Rakel to look at her, but the girl kept starin
g at her hands. Her knuckles were white. “And I saw that same look on your face when I came in here.” Cora waited, giving Rakel the time she needed to decide that it was okay to talk about it. After a few seconds, she did.
Rakel unclenched her hands, and wiped her palms on her pants. “The thing is, he’s always staring at me. He won’t leave me alone.” She paused, met Cora’s gaze. “But I can handle it.”
Cora knew a pretty girl Rakel’s age should be well aware of how young men—and older ones, too—tend to undress a girl with their eyes. When she was that age, she knew the boys were looking, and to tell the truth, she kind of enjoyed the attention. If Rakel was bothered by it, though, it probably meant there was more to it than simple staring. Unfortunately, she’d experienced that side of it, too. “Do you want me to talk to him?” Cora asked.
“No, please don’t. I know he’s been through a lot in the past few months. The last thing he needs is for people to start hounding him. I think he just wants someone to talk to.”
“I could change the schedule to make sure you don’t have to work with him.”
“Could you?” Rakel’s face brightened at the suggestion.
“I’ll take care of it.” Cora wasn’t entirely sure changing the schedule would be enough, though. “Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Rakel stood. “Don’t worry, Ms. H, Zach’s just a little weird, that’s all. I’ve handled guys like him before.”
“Okay. But if you feel uncomfortable at all, I want you to come talk to me. We girls have to stick together, right?”
A weak smile. “Yeah, I guess we do. Thanks, Ms. H.”
*
When Rakel walked back out onto the store floor, she saw Zach standing by his cart a couple of aisles away, and she winked at him.
He smiled, and winked back.
Rakel was looking forward to Saturday night.
21
Zach undressed, threw his work clothes in a pile in the corner, and slipped into bed. Before he turned off his bedside lamp, he checked his phone. He’d texted Rakel a couple of times, but as usual, hadn’t received a response. Her phone was probably dead—again—and he wasn’t about to call her house number and risk having her dad answer. He turned off his lamp and closed his eyes.
Sleep came quickly.
And so did the dream.
*
He was in the house again.
His memories of the party, and his injury, had remained out of reach of his conscious mind, but his subconscious remembered every detail. I was in the kitchen at the party, and I saw this place.
Zach knew he wasn’t alone. He turned and looked down the hallway, which was filled with a clinging, gray mist that grew thicker and darker as it stretched away before him. A figure was standing at the far end. A young woman.
“Rakel?” he called out in his dream. “Rakel, is that you?”
He slowly walked down the hall, entering the thick, cold mist. As he grew nearer, the figure stepped from the shadows into the dim light.
It was Rakel.
He’d never seen her look so beautiful, so breathtaking. She stood naked before him, her hair settled gently about her bare shoulders. Her eyes were an intense cobalt blue, full of yearning, full of desire.
Zach saw nothing but acceptance in those eyes, complete acceptance of all that he was, and all that he had once been.
Rakel stepped toward him, bare feet padding silently across the tiled hallway floor. She opened her arms to him. “Zach, come to me.”
He was captivated by her beauty as she drew near, her skin glowing in the dim light as if lit from within. Rising from the sudden curve of her hips, her stomach was flat and tight, blossoming above with the perfect roundness of her breasts. A thin gold chain was all she wore, glittering dimly in the muted light, framing her slender throat. Her graceful strides were silent and precise, like a panther on the hunt.
Even in his dream, he could smell the heavy, arousing scent of her perfume. Irresistible. He was drawn to her.
“Zach, I love you. I need you,” she whispered.
But there was someone else. Zach felt a presence behind him. He turned—
—and was suddenly besieged with a tidal wave of memories. Standing at the opposite end of the hallway, bathed in a brilliant white light, was another girl, a girl he’d seen before in dreams since forgotten. She was wearing blue jeans, a green sweater. Thick, shoulder-length brunette hair framed her face, and her eyes, two liquid jewels the color of a summer sky. Startlingly blue, clear and bright. Open windows to her soul.
A joyous look of recognition lit her face like the promise of the rising sun.
But she wasn’t just a dream; she was real. Zach remembered the party. He remembered how strongly he’d been drawn to her, and how he ran from the house looking for her. He remembered he felt a frantic need to help her, because she was in trouble.
He remembered.
*
Peyton was having a nightmare.
In front of her, a hallway stretched away into the darkness, while a cold, clinging mist hugged the floor and snaked around her ankles, its icy tendrils crawling up her legs. There was something evil here. She could feel it.
Suddenly, she saw a figure walking toward her down the hall. As it stepped out of the shadows, she could see a face.
It was him. The boy she’d seen at the party.
At the other end of the long hallway, she suddenly saw the girl Dezi had been making fun of. Rakel Anders. She was completely naked, and calling to the boy as she walked toward him. She heard Rakel say, “Zach, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me here alone, I need you, I want you.”
Zach, his name is Zach. Peyton watched as Zach turned back toward Rakel.
“Zach, come to me,” Rakel said, stretching her arms toward him.
Peyton sensed confusion in Zach—he was torn between the two of them, trying to decide. Peyton tried to speak, to walk toward him, but the words wouldn’t come, and she couldn’t move. Even so, she felt a pull between the two of them, an irresistible force pushing them toward one another. Peyton smiled as Zach looked away from Rakel, and took a step toward her.
“She doesn’t love you like I love you, Zach,” Rakel screamed. “She doesn’t understand you like I understand you! She doesn’t know you! Please, don’t leave me, don’t leave me here alone, I’m afraid, Zach, so afraid,” Rakel pleaded.
Zach hesitated, but took another step toward Peyton.
“No, Zach, come to me.” Rakel’s voice was guttural, deep and growling.
Even in her dreams, what Peyton saw at the other end of the hallway made her blood run cold. It wasn’t Rakel Anders anymore.
*
Zach didn’t know what to do. Rakel was begging him to come to her, but the girl at the other end of the hallway, the girl from the party . . . he was pulled toward her by feelings so strong, and so right, that he couldn’t resist.
“No, Zach, come to me.” It was Rakel’s voice, but changed. Deeper, thicker.
When he turned, the Rakel Anders he loved was gone, her beauty stripped away, revealing a hellish beast, a blaspheme painted with a brush of indescribable ugliness. Her once shapely legs were now long and bony, supporting her tortured frame like the quivering haunches of a jackal. Grayish, thin skin stretched taut across sharply protruding bones. What were once manicured nails on her fingers and toes were now long black razors protruding from torn, ruined flesh. Her hair hung about her misshapen head like strands of wire, metallic and cold. Fanged teeth protruded from thin, bloodless lips, her once beautiful face twisted into a horrific grimace. A brownish, forked tongue darted in and out of her slit mouth, tasting the air. Soulless black eyes fixed their gaze on him and burned into his flesh.
The Rakel-thing hobbled down the hall toward him, clawed hands reaching out, clawed feet click-clicking on the tiled hallway floor as it neared him.
click click click
Her scent was no longer pleasant. T
he heavy smell of rot and bile preceded her, brutalizing his senses. It was the filthy stench of corpses, bloating and bursting in the burning sun. The smell of death. Vulture’s breath.
It quickened its plodding pace. click click click click
Zach tried to run, but was frozen in place.
With a low grunt, the Rakel-thing leapt at him, the mist parting and swirling behind it as it hurled its mass through the cold, thick vapor. It slammed into him with claws extended, ripping into his flesh. A terrible, gurgling scream erupted from the thing’s maw, like a pig whose throat had been cut for slaughter.
Zach struggled to get away, but he couldn’t move, hopelessly chained to his terror, cemented in place. His mouth hung open in a silent scream.
The Rakel-thing tore at him, furiously ripping and tearing with mindless, unbridled ferocity, its grayish skin glistening, slick and streaked red with his blood. Black, lifeless orbs lolled in their sockets like the eyes of a shark, a simple-minded killer doing what it did best. Tiny bits of torn flesh flew from its bloody claws and stuck to the hallway walls, leaving thin crimson trails as they slid toward the floor.
Suddenly, the Rakel-thing ceased its murderous onslaught and stepped back from its shredded quarry. Thick, congealing blood dripped from its claws, splattering on the tile floor below, now slippery and sticky with the gore from its frenzy.
Zach stood, unable to fall, unable to scream, sickeningly aware that a good part of him was now missing. He wanted to look down, but couldn’t—his eyes were fixed upon the hellish creature in front of him.
Its breath was dank, moldy, hissing through its fangs like ancient air escaping from an opened crypt. The thin lips parted. The forked tongue, its surface rough and dry, slowly licked Zach’s terrified face, rubbing hard against his skin.
The Rakel-thing spoke: “You don’t want to leave me, Zach. I know you, I know what you are.” A clawed hand gripped Zach’s head and forced it down, forced him to look at his wrists.
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