by Amy Cross
"Surprised to see me?" she asks, a faint smile crossing her lips. She steps closer, and I realize there's something around her neck: a large, thick metal collar that looks like something for the medieval period. "You knew I'd find you, right?" she continues. "You must have known this day was coming."
Sophie
Dedston, 16 years ago.
With smoke everywhere and the heat from the flames becoming unbearable, I crawl over to Patrick.
“I figured it out,” I say, looking into his eyes, hoping to find some hint of understanding. “And I realized that there's only one way I'm ever going to see that baby, and that's if you take me to her. So I'm not going to let you die, do you understand?”
He sits up, looking at me with a shocked expression on his face.
“Do you really think that baby is going to be safer with you gone?” I ask him. “When they've finished with you, they'll still go after it, and you'll need to be around. If you really want to do all the heroic sacrificing yourself stuff, at least wait until it'll actually work. You have to be here for that baby. He needs you”. I look into Patrick's eyes, hoping to see that he understands. “It's a he, right?” I ask. “The baby's a boy?”
Patrick stares at me and then he slowly shakes his head.
I stare back at him for a moment. “A girl?” I ask hesitantly, as my heart skips a beat.
Shelley
Wyoming, Today.
"How have you been?" I ask, walking over to Abby. I glance around, but there's no-one else on the street. This whole situation feels wrong, as if I'm stepping into a trap; at the same time, I can't help being worried about her. She's all alone in the world, and I'm probably one of the few people she feels she can trust. She doesn't have any parents, and she's at the mercy of Benjamin and his dark association. While I'd like to fool myself into thinking that she can look after herself, the truth is that she's clearly in need of help. She looks a little older than last time I saw her, but what's really caught my attention is that metal collar. She looks as if she's owned by someone; as if she's succumbed to someone's demands and surrendered her freedom in exchange for... what?
"I've been pretty busy," she says. "I've been looking for you, mostly. I thought it'd be easier, but I'm not very good at picking up scents and you weren't in any of the places I assumed you might be. It's almost as if you've been hiding."
"I've been visiting friends," I say, my heart racing. Part of me wants to hug her, and part of me wants to run. I'm waiting for her to give me a sign, so I know what to do, but she seems kind of blank and passive and I have no idea whether I can trust her. "Have you heard from Todd?" I ask. Damn it, I wish that Todd was around right now. He'd know what to do.
She pauses for a moment. "Yeah," she says finally. "That's kind of why I'm here. He wants to meet you, but -" She looks up and down the street, as if she thinks we're being watched. "He's worried about getting in touch. He thinks Benjamin might be bugging all the networks, so he asked me to track you down and deliver a message in the old-fashioned way. Face to face. He's worried about you, Shelley. He knows what's happening, and he thinks you're in danger."
"Where is he?" I ask. "Is he okay?"
"He's fine," she replies, but she seems a little nervous. If I didn't know better, I'd think she's lying. "He's in California," she continues, "but he can travel. He can be here tomorrow. Are you willing to meet him?"
"Yeah," I say, figuring I might as well play along, "but we have to make sure Benjamin doesn't find out. Isn't he looking for you?"
She smiles. "I can keep well ahead of him. Don't worry about that. Things have... changed since the last time I saw you. I've got faster, and smarter, and stronger. It's kind of scary, but it's good too. I think I've moved beyond the phase when I was in danger. There's nothing the Watchers can do to hurt me now."
I take a closer look at her collar. It's wide and thick, and it covers most of her neck; it also appears to have some kind of electronic system built into the metal. Overall, it looks on closer inspection to be a pretty sophisticated piece of equipment, and I have a horrible feeling that it symbolizes the fact that Abby has capitulated to some greater power.
"It's for my own protection," Abby says suddenly, with a determined glint in her eye.
"What is?" I ask.
She smiles. "The collar. Benjamin gave it to me. He was worried about me, and he said this would help me stay safe. There are still... things... looking for me. This..." She pauses as she reaches up and touches the collar. "Without this, I'd be in a lot more danger. It helps me stay free."
"Funny," I say, "it looks more like something that stops you being free."
"There's no point being free if you're dead," she says firmly, as if she's been rehearsing the line. I guess she must have known that I'd question her choice. "The most important thing is to stay safe. Once you're safe, then you can start thinking about being free."
"And you don't think Benjamin can track you via the collar?"
"He..." She pauses, and I see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. "I asked him about that," she says, "and he promised me that there's no kind of tracking system. It's purely designed to give off a signal that..." She pauses again. "It's for emergencies. It stops other creatures from picking up my scent. It also records certain information about my body, so Benjamin can study it later. But he promised me that it doesn't transmit anything, and he swears he can't use it to track me. As long as I'm wearing this thing, I'm free."
"And you believe him?"
"Yes," she says, fixing me with a dark stare.
I smile. The kid's so naive, it's almost scary. With no-one around to help her, she's turned to the one person who offers her some kind of security, even if his help comes at a cost. She's twisted her logic inside out until black is white, down is up, and wrong is right.
"I know what you think," she says suddenly. "You think he's lying to me, but he's not. Benjamin's not like other people. He tells the truth. He trusts me, and I trust him. Not everyone's a liar, Shelley. Don't assume everyone's like you. Some people have morals, and ethics. Some people are good."
"What about Patrick?" I ask. "Is he -"
"Dead?" She pauses. "I don't think so. I can barely detect his life force these days, but every so often I get a hint that he's still alive. He's out there somewhere, hanging on to what remains of his existence. I don't know what he's waiting for, though. If I was him, I'd have let go by now. There's no point prolonging the inevitable." She coughs; she seems ill, as if she's got something on her chest. "That's one of the things the collar is for. To make sure he can't find me." She coughs again.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"I'm fine," she replies immediately, as if she's been expecting - and even preparing for - the question. She seems defensive, as if she's scared. I want to reach out and find a way to connect with her, but she seems so detached and distant. "I'm going to live for a thousand years. How could I not be fine?" She coughs again, and it's clear that something's wrong. She's definitely not herself. "If there was something wrong with me," she continues, "the collar would warn me. That's one of the things it does. It monitors my body and checks for signs of illness. It..."
"Keeps you free?" I say, smiling sadly.
"Exactly," she says, but I can tell that she doesn't really believe it herself. She's parroting a bunch of lines she got from someone else, probably from Benjamin himself. "Free from fear and doubt. Free from my own mistakes."
"Cool," I reply, reaching out and tugging on the collar. "If only I'd known it was so easy to be free."
"Don't touch me!" she says, pulling away. There's real anger under the surface, as if she's struggling to hold herself together. "Don't touch the collar," she adds, correcting herself. "It's not supposed to be touched. Benjamin said it can defend me from anyone who..." She pauses. "I came here for two reasons," she says after a moment. "First, to set up a meeting between you and Todd. Second, I wanted to ask you if you can tell me about my mother."
I stare at her for a
moment. "Sure. What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
I smile. "And where do you want to start?"
"We should go somewhere else to talk," she says. "Is there some kind of diner or something around here? I need to sit down."
"This way," I say, leading her around the corner to a little diner that I've been visiting lately. As we approach the door, Abby gets a coughing fit, pausing to clear her throat. For a moment, I see a spot of blood on her hand, before she wipes it away and smiles nervously at me.
"I'm fine," she mutters, anticipating the question.
"I'll buy you lunch," I say, feeling as if I owe her something. She's alone in the world, and clearly ill. Whatever else happens, I have to make sure she stays out of Benjamin's reach. If she ends up back at his facility, she might be lost forever. It looks like the first job will be to get that collar off her neck, although I'm not optimistic that it'll be an easy task. It's crazy how he's managed to persuade her that the only way to be free is to become his property.
"You want a milkshake?" I ask as we head inside.
"No," she says.
"I thought you liked milkshakes," I reply as we sit in a booth. "You hungry?"
"Tell me about Sophie," she says, her eyes darting about nervously as if she's worried we're being watched.
The waitress comes over and we order a couple of sandwiches and some soda. While the waitress is writing down the order, Abby looks intensely uncomfortable; she stares down at the table and seems almost to be sweating, as if she doesn't like being close to other people. Something's seriously wrong with her, and it's clear that Benjamin has managed to really fuck with her mind. This is definitely not the same cautious, curious Abby I first met back in Callerton all those weeks ago; this girl is uncertain, confused and angry. I'm not sure if I can undo all the damage that Benjamin has done, but I have to try; after all, I can't help feeling that this is partly my fault. If I'd been around more, if I'd talked to her, maybe she would have been okay. I just thought Todd would look after her, but he seems to be out of the picture.
"What do you want to know?" I ask Abby once the waitress has left our table. "I'll tell you anything, but you need to give me specific questions." I pause, looking across the diner. "Let's hope there are no Tenderlings around this time," I add with a nervous smile. The last time we were sitting together in a restaurant, the place ended up getting ripped apart by a gang of angry little red monsters. It's only been a few weeks since that happened, but it feels like a lifetime.
"Don't worry," she replies. "They won't turn up, and if they do, I can deal with them."
I smile. There's something about her tone of voice that makes me believe her. She seems more confident than before, as if she's got a better command of her abilities. When I first met Abby back in Callerton, she seemed like a scared teenage girl who didn't understand her own body; today, she seems to be totally in control, and there's a sense of strength and power about her that makes me feel kind of nervous.
"Tell me about Sophie," she says after a moment. "I want to know everything. What she was like, what she did, what she sounded like, what she believed. Everything. Don't leave anything out, even if it doesn't seem important."
"Why now?" I ask. "Why did you track me down to ask me these things now?"
She shrugs. "I just thought, while you're still... I mean, while you still maybe want to talk to me."
"She was..." I pause. "Wait. Do you want the rose-tinted version where she was absolutely perfect, or do you want the truth?"
"The truth."
"She was flawed," I say. "She was kind and smart, and she was my friend, but she definitely had her problems. She made some bad decisions, especially after she met Patrick. I still think she could have survived if she's just stepped back and taken a more realistic view of things. Instead, she trusted Charles Nimrod and she allowed him to lead her to a dark place. I'm not criticizing, but she definitely didn't help herself." I pause for a moment. "She made a lot of dumb decisions, but she was in love with your father. People tend to make mistakes when they're blinded by love. That's one of the reasons I've always been careful to make sure I don't fall in love with anyone."
"How much did she look like me?" she asks. She's so tense, it's hard to fight the urge to reach over and hug her.
"A lot," I say. "A hell of a lot."
She pauses. "I think maybe I saw her once. Is that possible? Patrick took me to Gothos. I went out into the wilderness, and for a moment I saw this figure... She looked like me, but she was maybe a little fuller in the face. She had this sad expression, like something had gone horribly wrong. She was kneeling next to Patrick. I wanted to talk to her, but then she just disappeared right in front of my eyes."
I take a deep breath. "It might have been her," I say, feeling a cold shiver run through my body. I've seen vampires and I've seen other stuff, but ghosts are something I'd prefer not to think about. I've known too many people who've died over the years, and too many of them would probably love to come and haunt the shit out of me.
"Why wouldn't she talk to me?" Abby asks. "If she can appear to Patrick, why won't she appear to me?"
"I don't know," I say, "but I can promise you one thing. She hasn't appeared to me either."
"Why should she appear to you?" Abby sneers. "You were just a friend. I'm her daughter!"
"I know," I reply. "I just mean, maybe she doesn't have control over it. Maybe she can't just pick and choose who she appears to, or when."
"She should try harder," Abby says, and it's clear that she's taking this very personally. "Actually," she continues after a moment, "I have another question."
"Shoot."
"What did he say to you?" she asks.
"Who?"
"Patrick." She takes a deep breath. "Benjamin says that, according to his sources, Patrick once whispered something to you. He doesn't know what he said, but... you have to tell me. Please, Shelley? What did he say? Benjamin knows what some of the words were, but there's a part he still needs to work out. Was it something about Sophie?"
I shake my head. "I can't tell you, Abby. I can't tell anyone. It's not..." I pause, remembering that day back in Dedston when Patrick, just before he turned to stone, whispered those deathly words into my ear. It was so strange, feeling his breath against my skin as he spoke... and then he was gone. Just as Sophie asked me back then, so Abby is asking me now. Still, after all these years, I can't answer the question, not fully. There's a part of what Patrick told me that I can never reveal to anyone. I just have to wait and see if was telling the truth.
"Why are you being such a bitch?" Abby asks suddenly.
I stare at her for a moment. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You could tell me what he said, but you won't. You act like it's some kind of big, sacred thing, but really you're just being a fucking bitch. You're just torturing me on purpose." She leans forward. "Admit it. He gave you a message, didn't he? Something to tell me."
"No," I say, lying. "That's not what he wanted me to do."
"Then what?" she shouts. There's an awkward pause as the other people in the diner glance over at us. "What?" Abby continues, lowering her voice. "He never spoke to me. As far as I can tell, he never spoke to Sophie. But he spoke to you. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against you, Shelley. But I don't understand why, of all people, you were the one person he spoke to. I mean, you're... nothing. You're just a normal person."
"Thanks," I reply.
"You know what I mean." She pauses, glancing around to double-check that no-one's listening to us. "Patrick didn't love you. He barely even met you. So why would he suddenly turn around and whisper something important to you?"
I take a deep breath, determined to keep my emotions in check. I'd dearly love to tell Abby the truth, but I can't. She's right: Patrick did ask me to give her a message one day, and I've got a horrible feeling that the day has finally arrived. But the message can't be delivered in words; it has to be delivered in actions. For that
to happen, I have to wait until Abby reaches a certain point that Patrick predicted all those years ago. I just pray that he was right.
"Will you tell Todd?" she asks eventually.
"Where is he?" I reply.
"Will you come with me?" she says. "I'll take you to him."
"I thought you said he was in California?" I say.
"I lied. I had to make sure it was safe to tell you the truth first. He's nearby. I can take you right now."
I pause for a moment. Every part of me is screaming that it's time to turn and run, but I know deep down that I have a duty. A duty for Sophie, and for Abby. I managed to persuade myself that I'd be able to run from that duty, but now I realize there's no escape. As the waitress brings our food and drinks over, I pause and put my hands under the table, determined to make sure that Abby can't see how much I'm shaking. Damn it, I don't think I've ever been so scared.
"Let's eat," I say. "Then you can take me to Todd, okay?"
"Okay," Abby says, seemingly becoming a little more calm. She even manages to crack a smile. "I bet he can't wait to see you."
Sophie
Dedston, 16 years ago.
“What's her name?” I ask.
Patrick seems as if he's almost ready to say something, but he holds back.
“You can write it down for me later,” I say. “We're getting out of here”. I turn to look at the entrance, which is now almost completely covered by the fire. “Is there another way?”
Patrick stands. He seems stronger now, as if his wounds have already begun to heal. He walks over to where Shelley is still keeping Dexter on the ground. Reaching down, Patrick pushes Shelley out of the way, then leans in and bites Dexter's neck, ripping a chunk clean away. He bites again, and Dexter screams, and then a third bite severs Dexter's head, stops the scream and leaves Patrick covered in blood.