by Adele Huxley
“The arsonist is here?” a woman cried. “We need to do something! Call the police or…”
“There’s nothing they can do. We have to look out for ourselves now. We don’t know if it’s the arsonist or someone messing around with us, but it’s important we all stay alert. I’m not gonna lie. Tonight is going to be long, but we can get through it.”
I felt the lump grow in my throat, a surge of emotion blurring my vision. “That’s one thing I love about Tellure Hollow. You’re all so tough and resourceful. If anyone in the world can get through this…”
From my height, I saw Dani burst from the kitchen. The door slammed against the wall as she frantically looked around. For a moment, our eyes met, and she unleashed a shout. “I need help! He’s waking up!”
I jumped from the makeshift podium, the crowd parting to let Bryan and me rush through. Dusty and Melinda were right on our heels. By the time we reached Miah, Dani had circled to the other side of the table and protectively held his hand.
“He just started to wake up,” she said as she looked down at him.
The medics pushed past us and immediately set about checking his vital signs, rattling off questions in clipped voices. With a hand held over my mouth, I leaned into Bryan and watched the scene unfold. When Miah opened his eyes and scanned the room, it was like releasing a breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding. The pain in my chest eased, the weight on my shoulders lighter.
Dusty approached us while Melinda continued to ask Miah questions. “He’s going to be fine. Looks like just a nasty knock to the head, no other injuries.”
“Oh, thank God for that,” I said with a big exhale. He had a lot more color in his face than before.
“Can we talk to him?” Bryan asked.
“He needs to rest, but there shouldn’t be any harm in talking with him. He was asking for you, actually.”
“Thank you for everything. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze.
With three or four blankets wrapped around his shoulders, Miah sat in a chair sipping warm tea. Dani stood behind him protectively, glaring at me as if I were a threat. Mr. and Mrs. Goldberg sat beside, doting on him, obviously filled with guilt.
He looked alert but grim as we drew close. “Doc said you were the one who found me,” he murmured to Bryan.
“We were all looking for you. Just glad we could help.”
The men shared an emotional silence. I could see the tears welling up in both their eyes as they nodded to each other.
“I owe you one, thanks.”
“Dusty said you wanted to talk to us?” I guided the conversation on.
“Yeah, I thought while it’s fresh in my mind I should tell someone about what I remember.”
“You really don’t have to…” Dani said as she reached for his shoulder. He touched her fingers and slowly looked up. “I do. If anything can help…”
I pulled up a chair and sat close, resisting the urge to reach for his hand. Dani probably would’ve torn my arm from the socket. “That’s absolutely right. What do you remember? Anything at all. Smells, sounds, a voice.”
After the day he’d had, I didn’t feel completely great about questioning him. On the other hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were running on borrowed time. Everything on the list we’d taken from Gary had already come true. I didn’t think this attack was premeditated, so maybe the people behind this had made a mistake. His gaze grew distant, unfocused.
“I needed to blow off some steam, so I went outside to help clear the sidewalks. I don’t know how long I was out there for, but I remember getting hot and sweaty. The snow was heavy. I took my jacket off and threw it down… I can’t remember where.”
He drifted away. I gave him a few minutes to collect his thoughts but drew him back by touching his knee.
“Did you see anyone?”
He blinked back to me. “No, no one else. The snow’s so tall, I couldn’t throw it up high enough. It’d just fall down the sides, so I pushed it along like a plow. It was so quiet…
“And that was the problem. With the snow, I didn’t hear anyone come up from behind. One second, I was walking along and the next, I was on my hands and knees on the ground. I remember seeing a few drops of blood hit the snow, which really tripped me out.” He chuckled softly. “I’m not very fast on the uptake, huh?”
I glanced up to Dani, her somber face cast in shadows from the camping lanterns. She didn’t seem to be taking any of this well and I got the sense I didn’t have a full picture.
“He hit me with something pretty hard. I think I saw a blur come across from the side.” He moved his arm as if blocking an attack from above. “The next thing I remember is someone trying to smother me. I think he was using my own jacket… at least, I remember seeing red when it slipped loose a couple times. I fought him. I clawed at him as hard as I could, but I was too weak…”
He trailed off again, his voice cracking at the end. My heart absolutely broke for him. I empathized too well what that sort of helplessness felt like. He moved to run his hand through his hair and stopped short when met with the large bandage.
“Do you remember anything about the attacker? His voice? Maybe a watch or something you felt on his wrist. Anything,” I gently prodded.
Miah clenched his jaw. “No. I blacked out. The next thing I remember was being lifted into that chair out front. I remember…” I watched as his eyes narrowed and then went wide. “Wait! You said you found me with my coat on?”
Bryan nodded. “Yeah, it’s how we spotted you.”
“I know I didn’t have it on when he attacked me. I have this weird memory of him tucking something into the pocket… Dani, do you have it? Do you have my coat?”
“Yeah, it’s around here,” she said as she disappeared into the shadows. “It’s a little bloody,” she said with a catch in her throat.
“Here, lemme see it.” Miah tore it from her hands and desperately searched each pocket. “I know there was… ah!” he declared as he pulled a folded letter out. He frowned as he read it. Dani scoffed and turned away in disgust after reading over his shoulder.
I think a small part of me had clung to the hope that it was really a series of horrible coincidences. Even with the family cabin and Walt’s shop burning down, along with all the other buildings, I couldn’t fully accept the possibility of the arsonist in our own midst. But when Miah handed me that letter, all hope was dashed.
The arsonist was trapped with us at Powder Mountain.
Powder Mountain
$35 million + 3 years…
“Do you want anything? Water? I could make you another tea or hot chocolate?”
“I’m good, really. My head is pounding and I would kill for a shower, but you can’t do much about that. Just sit, it’s fine,” Miah said. He lifted the blanket with his arm and I settled back in against his body.
I couldn’t stop doting on him, checking to make sure he was fine every five seconds. The guilt was overwhelming, but I didn’t have the courage to admit it. Instead, I tried to force feed him, get him drinks, anticipate any possible need.
“Are you warm enough? I could find another blanket and…”
“Just stop, please! We’re practically sitting inside a fire and I can feel you sweating next to me.” He pulled me close and rested his chin on top of my head. “I’m okay, you really don’t have to worry.”
I was a little concerned that if he could feel my sweat I probably smelled, but given the circumstances, it was the least of my worries. I would’ve sweat buckets if it meant keeping him warm. Dusty had given me strict instructions to keep him up and talking. Falling asleep with a concussion, even a mild one, was dangerous. No way was I going to let that happen on my watch.
“All right, but you have to promise to tell me the second you do need something,” I conceded.
“Tell me a story,” he said lazily.
“I only know sad stories.” It’d been a flippant comment bu
t rang true enough.
“That’s fine. Just make sure it has a dragon in there somewhere.”
I scoffed at his odd request at first, but since we didn’t really have anything else going on, I figured why not. Curled up in the corner of the Great Hall beside one of the three roaring fires, it seemed like a perfect time and place to tell a story.
“You want a Christmas one?”
“Ick, no. I’m done with Christmas. Make one up, one with a dragon.”
“I don’t know where to start,” I said quietly, feeling bashful.
“Just close your eyes, forget we’re stuck in this frozen purgatory, and tell me the first thing that comes to mind. With a dragon, don’t forget.”
So I did just that. I nestled against his chest, loving the sound of his steady, strong heartbeat. I opened my imagination to figments of images, feelings, old stories I used to know… they all blended together and I began to speak.
“In a kingdom far, far away there was a brave king. He had little land, but those who lived in his kingdom loved him fiercely. The king was a fair but stern ruler who valued respect above all else.”
Miah’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. “Good start so far, Marsh.”
I ignored him and pressed on, the image still forming in my mind. “A danger threatened the borders of his kingdom. He exhausted every option and was forced to declare war. Every single servant and citizen supported his decision… all except his only heir, the princess. From her tower, she could see the danger more clearly than anyone else could and didn’t want him to go anywhere near it.
“The night before he left for battle, he came to her room high in the tower to beg for her support one last time. She pleaded, manipulated, even bargained for him to stay but nothing swayed him. So she tried one last thing… shunning. When he came to speak to her, she pretended she was looking forward to his leaving.”
“‘The moment you leave, I’ll be in charge of this kingdom and I’ll do what I want. I’m glad you’re going,’ she said to him. He begged her to at least say goodbye, to show him an ounce of kindness before riding into Death’s path. But the bitch princess wouldn’t even look at him.”
“Bitch princess? You’re editorializing,” Miah chuckled. With my ear pressed to his chest, I heard it rattle before he was wracked with a coughing fit. I waited for him to stop before settling back in.
“She is a bitch. Now shush.” I cleared my throat, closed my eyes, and tried to pick up where I’d left off.
“The king rode to battle the next morning, not knowing what to expect. He was scared, yes, but the stories of his ancestors’ successes turned fear to fate. When he rode into that dusty wasteland, he didn’t understand the foe he faced. So when it came upon him, he had no way of recognizing it.”
“Is this the dragon?”
“Yes! Shhh. This wasn’t your typical fire-breathing dragon. He was black and amorphous, a rolling black smoke that you can only see from the corner of your eye. This dragon was concentrated evil.
“The king rode in unaware of the trap. There was no great battle, no drawn out campaign. No swords were unsheathed. No parries, feints, and blocks. The attack was swift, fierce, without leniency… but the king wasn’t given the mercy of death.
“His men carried him back to the castle where they lay him to rest. No doctor or priest in the land could do anything to help. The black smoke dragon had invaded his body, ripped apart everything that made him king. All that was left was a husk… a warm, breathing corpse.”
“Jesus…” Miah muttered.
I ignored him, the end of the story becoming clear as I continued. I didn’t so much create the story as describe the scenes playing out in my mind. The words were merely my translations.
“When the princess finally went to see him, she couldn’t stand to look. The guilt was too much. She had driven him to battle, appeared to take pleasure in his departure. The last words they’d exchanged had been filled with hate and anger.
“She fled from that room, but the dark dragon had already hooked his talon into her. Every mirror she looked into, every polished spoon and candlestick reflected the darkness growing within. Her battle was agonizingly slow. The darkness coiled around her, bit by bit, infecting anyone she came in contact with. And that was her punishment.”
I slowly opened my eyes, almost waking from a dream state. I turned to stare into the fire hoping to burn the imagery away with the flickering flames. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell him about my dad, but I was pretty shocked by how it came out. Miah took a deep breath and held it.
“Your dad didn’t die.” It was a statement, not a question.
Tears sprung from my eyes, silently falling with surprising speed. I sat up and wiped them away, unable to look at him directly. “I didn’t mean to lie to you,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to explain.” He pulled me into his chest again, his hand sliding up my hot cheek as if shielding me. The ache in my heart was only rivaled when we first heard Dad was hurt. I hunched my shoulders, fought to keep control, and suppressed the cry that demanded release.
I don’t know how long he held me, but eventually the silent sobs slowed and ended. When I leaned back and looked into his eyes… I had never felt that vulnerable. In the flickering firelight, he brushed the tears from my cheeks and kissed me tenderly.
“I’m sorry we fought. When I found out you were… I just wanted to…” I started to say as we pulled away but he stopped me. Grabbing each side of my face fiercely, he looked deep into my eyes.
“Not another word. Everything worked out. It was a stupid fight that should’ve never happened in the first place. Do you understand me? You have nothing to apologize for.”
I nodded slowly, his hands still holding each cheek as my head moved up and down.
“I mean it,” he insisted.
“Okay,” I whispered. Miah dropped his hands to his lap, his chin dropping to his chest. I panicked, thinking his headache might be killing him or he had a wave of dizziness. “Are you okay? Do you need me to…”
“I wasn’t completely honest with you, either,” he blurted. “And Marie didn’t help much.”
I tempered the panic rising in my chest and gave him a chance to explain. This is where he tells me they really are together. “Okay…”
He leaned his head back against the wall and looked to the ceiling. I followed the line of his jaw, thinking this might be the last time I could be so close to him. “My mom kicked me out. I’ve been living with Marie and her parents for a while now ‘cause I can’t afford to live on my own. That’s why she’s so damn protective of me.”
It was my turn to take a minute to process. I glanced across the room to where Marie sat with her parents.
“She told me how she screwed with you,” Miah continued. “The reason I went outside was to cool off from fighting with her, not you.”
He was telling me so I wouldn’t feel responsible, which partly worked. What it really did was make me take a big step back and see the situation from a different perspective. Marie and Miah wouldn’t have fought if I hadn’t egged her on. I wouldn’t have egged her on if she hadn’t confronted me in the bathroom. The bathroom wouldn’t have happened… and so on. It was all linked, big and small, actions great and tiny. Subconsciously, another piece fit into place, a step towards healing.
I was glad he knew the truth.
“Why did your mom kick you out?”
He chuckled. “That’s a story for another day.”
Clutching Jack to my chest, I found a soft, empty seat in the corner of the room, and sank down. I was so weary, so emotionally and physically exhausted. My little angel snoozed in my arms while I wept, tears running freely down my cheeks as I gave up wearing my confident-I-have-it-together face.
It wasn’t often I gave in to despair, but this was a true moment of weakness. Horrible situations followed me wherever I went so regularly, it was hard not to believe I was cursed. How much shit can one person go through? O
ne of the few blessings I counted, with the whole town at risk and a psycho on the loose, was that at least I wasn’t responsible for this one. I was always surprised the town had forgiven me for thrusting it in the spotlight. Even though I’d married the local hero and helped the mountain recover, the shit I put them through…
I stared out of the window into the darkness, willing the sun to come up. It felt like a never-ending night, like the sun, as well as hope, had completely abandoned us. The sofa dipped as someone sat beside me. I quickly wiped my face and turned to see Walt’s weathered old hand extended with a tissue.
“Thanks,” I sniffed as I took it.
“Thought you might need someone to talk to,” he said in his gruff voice.
I snorted and wiped my face dry. “I appreciate it, but I know you don’t really want to sit here and listen to me complain. That’s not your style.”
Walt shrugged and leaned back in the sofa. He crossed his ankle over his knee and idly rubbed the joint. “Thing is, if I’m sitting here talkin’ to a crying woman, no one else is gonna bug me to do anything else.”
“Solid tactic,” I laughed. “But that still leaves you talking to a crying woman.”
Walt didn’t respond. He was the infuriating sort who enjoyed sitting in silence. Unfortunately, I hated it, especially when something weighed heavy on my mind. It was some type of torture, like the voice inside my head got louder and louder until I was forced to speak just to kill the deafening silence.
“I’m a terrible mother,” I blurted out.
Walt clicked his tongue against his teeth and gave a quick, hrumph.
I sniffed in surprise, the corner of my mouth curling slightly. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say to that?”
“I don’t waste my time responding to nonsense.”
I rolled my eyes and began the real pity party. “You saw that fight. Hell, everyone saw that fight. I haven’t been able to connect with that girl once since she got here. And she’s completely right to hate me.”