Garbarino helped Mia into the hole created by Austin’s fall. After plucking a bushel of dead ferns, he slid inside and used the ferns to cover the hole. “There,” he said. “Home sweet home.”
After arranging some leaves into a poor excuse for a bed, Mia lay down. Austin sat, head against the cool stone wall. Garbarino lay down on his stomach, arms under his head. Each one of them was lost in thought, Austin about their next move, Garbarino about the book Austin had thrown away, and Mia about the fate that Collins deserved. But none of them lasted longer than thirty seconds before falling asleep.
Six hours later, Mia stirred. Not asleep, but not quite awake, her thoughts drifted in that vivid place between dreams and reality. Memories came and went, unhindered by mental filters.
“Do you, Mia Durante, take Matthew Brenton to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elizabeth smiled. It had taken her five tries to make it all the way through the questions without stumbling.
“I’ll think about it,” Mia replied.
“Auntie Mia!” Liz shouted. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”
Mia slipped off the shoes she had just tried on and handed them back to the saleswoman. They had been shopping all day, picking out the bridesmaids dresses and the flower girl’s dress, and they had a second fitting for the wedding dress. They’d just had lunch and had moved onto her post-wedding outfit, the one her sister Margo insisted brides wear between after the reception and before the actual honeymoon began. No bride actually wears her honeymoon night lingerie under the wedding dress. “Too much sweat, make-up and aching feet,” she’d said. “You’ll probably shower and sleep before even thinking about getting nasty.”
Mia had conceded the point. She and Matt had been living together for a while and “getting nasty” was a regular occurrence. A shower and nap wouldn’t be out of the question, for sure. So she’d gone along with the notion of picking out an outfit only to discover that she’d either gained a few pounds, all in her feet, or the Thai she’d had for lunch was making her feet swell.
She smiled at Liz. “Hey, you’re the flower girl. You don’t have to ask any questions.”
“But I want to make sure you know the answers.”
“Which are?”
Liz stomped her foot on the floor and made a face that showed one part smile and one part wide-eyed snarling animal. “Aunt-tee!”
Mia laughed. “Okay, okay.”
“Do you,” Elizabeth started again, her voice proper. “Mia Durante, take Matthew Brenton to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Mia said, “I do,” as the memory faded, replaced by a new one.
Her hair hung over her face so she couldn’t see his. But she could feel him beneath her. She gripped his chest as she rolled her hips over him. Her back tensed as she moaned and pushed harder. He responded by holding her hips and adding the strength of his arms to each thrust. She arched back with a release of energy, lost in the moment.
When the feeling faded, she leaned forward again, hands on the bed sheets. She put an arm under her sweat dampened hair and flung it back, looking into his eyes.
The wrong eyes.
Matt’s were brown.
Those eyes were blue.
But he didn’t see the look of horror in her eyes as he laid her back and satiated his own desires. Each thrust was like a stab wound. When he finished, she ached, physically and emotionally. She had betrayed the man she loved and though they weren’t yet married in the eyes of the law, she’d always felt that the bond they shared was equal. She would wear a scarlet A for the rest of her life. No one but her would see it. Some would even applaud it. But she would never forgive herself for it.
Recent memories blotted out her betrayal. Violence and death overshadowed her carnal act. The dead, but not dead, faces of White, Vanderwarf, Paul and Chang stared at her. Then the dead who stayed dead; Mark the priest, Collins the president and Elizabeth the child.
Mark’s last words echoed in her mind. ““You’re not ready! None of you are ready. It’s too soon. Too soon!”
Not ready, she thought. For what?
But the other implication of his statement sought to control her thoughts. Mark wasn’t worried about himself because he felt ready? Or was he just being selfless, worrying about his brother? But Mark didn’t come back. And Paul did.
And what about Elizabeth? She was just a child. How could she have figured things out and gotten ready for something the rest of them missed?
“Only the child will be spared!” The memory of Pastor Billy Jackson’s screeching voice nearly snapped her wide awake. “The child,” he had said. “The child is innocent. Not yet tainted by the world. Not yet able to understand the choice...the choice...”
What choice? She thought. Were he and Mark talking about the same thing? And if so, why had Mark stayed dead while the Pastor lived on? It’s a choice, she reminded herself. Knowing the options isn’t enough. You have to choose the right one.
But what are the options? How can you choose if you don’t know?
Images of Collins filtered into her thoughts. How did he know? No single person before him could claim to have killed so many. He caused a world-wide genocide that resulted in this twisted new Earth where people are tortured and killed only to be brought back repeatedly. Murderers are prey to former average Joes, who are now horrified by their awful deeds. Peace activists are killing machines. A pastor living the high-life by putting God up for sale is dressed as a king and is incapable of eating. And what about the people in the lake, drowning again and again? What had they been before?
It didn’t matter. The question that needed to be answered wasn’t what all those tormented people chose that led them here, it was what the few who didn’t come back chose that let them escape.
What did Collins say before he died?
“Redemption.”
She remembered wondering how he could expect such a thing. The idea was ludicrous. But then he hadn’t come back. Renewed anger pumped adrenaline into her system. Her eyes fluttered as she came out of her near-sleep.
But then she remembered something. The last thing Collins said wasn’t, “Redemption,” it was, “Forgive me.”
The memory became crystal clear as she woke. “Forgive me,” he had said as she clutched his shirt. But there was something odd about the statement she hadn’t placed at the time. He wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t talking to her.
“You’re not ready,” Mark’s voice repeated. “None of you are ready!”
“The child is innocent,” Pastor Billy said. “Not yet able to understand the choice.”
Not ready.
Mia sat up fast, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m not ready!”
The dim world came into focus around her. Shimmering light from the heat lightning above danced on the floor where it shone past the leafy covering. Garbarino and Austin leaned against the wall to her side. Austin’s eyes were wide, an index finger to his lips. Both men held their weapons.
A cracking of dry foliage above confirmed her fears. Someone was out there.
“Hello?” came a woman’s voice.
Mia slowly drew her handgun.
“Hello-o.” The woman’s sing-song voice sounded friendly enough, but here, in this place, nothing was what it seemed.
The woman giggled. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
The light above Garbarino and Austin was blocked out. Mia looked up and saw a shadow. She followed the shape up, seeing bits and pieces of the woman’s body, and then her face. Their eyes met through a grapefruit-sized hole in the cover. The woman’s eyes widened with a smile. “Aha! There you are.”
43
“Now where’d you go off to, hon?” the woman said after Mia ducked away and joined Austin and Garbarino against the wall. Her voice was sweet and tinged with a southern drawl. Mia imagined she’d been a waitress in some cute diner before the world went to shit.
When dust fell from above and scattered on top of Mia, she realized
that if the woman got any closer she might fall on top of them.
Austin realized this too and crouch-walked to the covering of dead ferns. He pointed to Garbarino, locked his fingers together and made a heaving motion. Garbarino nodded, locked his fingers together and held his hands down low.
As Austin put a foot in Garbarino’s locked hands, Mia figured out the plan. “Don’t shoot her if you don’t have to,” she whispered.
“Hello-o,” the woman sang.
Gun in hand, Austin nodded to Garbarino. Faster than Mia thought possible, Austin launched up, exploded through the ferns and rolled onto the forest floor. He came up fast, gun raised, and he drew a bead on the woman’s forehead. If Austin wanted to, he could have killed her and been done with it.
But he didn’t.
“Oh!” the woman said. “You gave me such a start.”
Austin stared at the woman. She stood stark naked and would have been beautiful if she wasn’t covered in blood and filth. She stood a little over five feet tall, had wavy blond hair and a voluptuous body. Despite the grime, Austin found himself staring. Since returning to earth, she was the only pleasant thing he’d seen.
She smiled at him, oblivious to the weapon pointed at her. “Don’t just stand there, come and give me a hug.”
The strangeness of the request snapped Austin back to reality. As she took a step toward him, he said, “Stop! Stay right there.”
The woman complied. “Whatever you say.”
Mia rose out of the concealed foundation and took Austin’s offered hand. Garbarino leapt up and pulled himself out. They saw the woman at the same time.
“Whoa,” Garbarino said.
“She’s beautiful,” Mia added.
Austin nodded, but pointed out what her beauty concealed. “And covered in dry blood.”
“Aren’t you all as sweet as apple pie,” she said. “I do try to look my best.”
“Is she one of them?” Garbarino asked in a hushed tone.
Austin shook his head. “Don’t think so.”
“How do you know?”
Mia stepped toward the woman. “She hasn’t tried to kill us yet.”
“Then what’s her deal?
“What’s your name?” Mia asked the woman.
“How rude of me. Not introducing myself.” She stomped forward, breasts swaying, hand extended in greeting. “Melissa. Melissa Rose.”
As Mia reached out and took the woman’s hand, she heard the hammer of Austin’s weapon click into place. If the woman attacked, it would be the last thing she did. But she just shook Mia’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss...?”
“Durante,” Mia said. “Mia Durante.” The greeting was as pleasant as any Mia had experienced except that, given the circumstances and her nakedness, it felt totally inappropriate. “Do you want some clothes?”
Melissa looked down at herself. She seemed oblivious to her nude body and the blood covering it. “I don’t know.”
Garbarino unbuttoned his outer shirt and took it off. It wasn’t much cleaner than the woman’s body, but the extra large shirt would hang to her thighs. He handed it to Mia, who gave it to the woman.
“Put this on,” Mia said.
The woman took the shirt, put it on and buttoned it up. “Aren’t you all polite.”
With Melissa clothed, her strangeness diminished a little and the group relaxed. Austin lowered his weapon, but didn’t holster it.
“What are you doing here?” Mia asked.
Melissa looked around as though seeing the woods for the first time. She shrugged. “Out for a walk, I guess.”
“How did you survive?” Austin asked.
“Survive what?”
Austin’s grip on his weapon tightened.
Mia placed a hand on his arm. “Maybe she’s in shock.”
“What do you do for work?” Mia asked.
“Department store. I run the register. We just got some of them new color TVs in.”
“Color TVs?” Garbarino said.
The woman’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them yet.”
Austin pointed beyond the woman. “Can you go wait over there while we talk?”
“Sure thing,” the woman said. She turned and walked away.
“Wait,” Mia said.
The woman stopped.
Austin gave her a look that asked what she was doing.
“Why don’t you sit right there,” Mia said.
The woman sat. “Whatever you say.”
Mia drew her gun and walked toward her.
“What are you doing?” Garbarino asked, his voice full of concern.
“She’s not like the others,” Mia said. “But she’s one of them.”
As Mia stopped behind the woman, Austin asked. “How do you know?”
Mia raised the gun and placed the barrel of it against the woman’s head. “Do you know what I’m holding?”
“A gun,” the woman replied.
“You know what it can do?”
The woman’s head bumped against the barrel as she nodded. If Mia had her finger on the trigger it might have gone off.
“It doesn’t concern you? Me having a gun against your head?”
The woman turned around, all smiles, so that the gun was now against your forehead. “Course not, darling. I trust you.”
“You just met me,” Mia said.
“You seem nice enough.”
“I have a gun to your head.”
“You have kind eyes.”
“I’m going to fucking blow your brains out.”
Without a moment’s pause, the woman said, “I trust you.”
Mia stepped back and put her weapon away.
“Weird,” Garbarino said. “She’s cursed with blind trust?”
“The world being how it is,” Austin said, “that’s probably not a good thing. Given the dry blood on her body, I’d say she’s already trusted the wrong people more than once already.”
A question snuck into Mia’s thoughts. Pastor Billy, Henry Masters and the serial killer had all become the extreme opposite of what they had been before, perhaps even what they had detested. What could make a woman trust complete strangers, or even people that wanted to tear her to pieces? “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” Mia asked.
Melissa looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“You’re greatest...sin. What is it?”
“That’s simple, hon.” The woman shifted, getting comfortable as she stared off into the distance, remembering her previous life. “I was thirty two. My husband was fifty five. He robbed the cradle. Everyone said so, even though I was a grown woman. But I was really the one robbing him.”
“You’re a thief?” Garbarino asked.
“Heaven’s no. He was rich. And I spent his money on whatever tickled my fancy. But he got what he wanted, too. She motioned to her body. I was his whenever he wanted. I did whatever he wanted. Even pretended to like it. But I’m a woman, you know? Despite his voracious appetite for sex, he wasn’t fulfilling my needs.”
Mia tensed. She didn’t like the story’s direction.
“Our staff was mostly women, but there was a young man—well, my age. He worked in the kitchen.” Her body shivered at the memory. “My husband found us in the pantry. I was leaned over a hutch, dress hiked up. He’d come home early. Heard me shouting and thought I was being hurt. We never heard him come into the kitchen and I’m not sure how long he watched. But when I...you know...he took a knife, placed it over his heart and shoved it in. Turns out the old man actually loved me.”
Mia took a step back and sat down. Her head spun and her stomach twisted. This is my fate, she thought. This is what I’ll become if I die...when I die.
A hand on her shoulder drew her wet eyes up. “You okay?” Garbarino asked.
Mia barely heard the question as she fought the urge to vomit. Her body shook.
Melissa stood up, excited, and unfazed by her story or Mia’s reaction to it. “Do you hear
that?”
The group fell silent. Distinct voices reached them, despairing, horrified voices. The horde was closing in.
Melissa hopped up and down, clapping her hands. “More friends!” she said and then shouted, “Over here! We’re over here!”
44
“Quiet!” Austin hissed.
Melissa smiled and said, “Okey-doke, artichoke.”
But it was too late. The voices had grown louder in response to the woman’s shout. They were coming.
A woman’s voice reached them from the distance. “I’m so sorry!”
Melissa waved her hand toward the voice. “Pish! Get on up here and—”
Austin clapped his hand around the woman’s mouth. She laughed. “We’re going to play hide and seek,” he said.
Melissa gave a vigorous nod.
“You know how to play right?”
She continued nodding.
“Stay as quiet as possible. Our friends are going to try to find us. But we have to stay quiet. Okay?”
She nodded six more times and then stopped. Austin removed his hand. The voices grew louder.
“We gotta go,” Garbarino said.
“Is there a place we can hide?” Austin asked Melissa.
She pointed to the concealed foundation. “Down there worked great!”
“Someplace further away,” Austin said. He’d considered returning to the hidden foundation, but if they were found, they’d be trapped. And while Melissa trusted all of them implicitly, he couldn’t trust that she’d stay quiet. Besides, with so many people tracking them, one of them would surely stumble across their hiding spot. “Someplace with lots of hiding spots.”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I grew up near here. In a city. Lots of places to hide.”
The voices were getting loud, fast. Henry Masters hadn’t announced his presence yet, but none of them doubted he was out there, hunting them.
“Good enough,” Austin said. “Can you take us there?”
“This way.” To Austin’s relief she headed away from the voices. He followed her.
TORMENT - A Novel of Dark Horror Page 22