She licked her lips and croaked, “Shot.” She sounded unwell without trying.
He raised his eyebrows, looking at her like she’d just told him there was a cloud in the sky. “You don’t say.”
She bristled. His wife was shot, fainted, and now he was acting like the injured party.
“Can I get some water, please?” She couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice. Weak. Shaky.
“Here you go.”
He didn’t attempt to hold it for her while she drank, but he was kind enough to unscrew the bottle before handing it to her. She managed to get it to her lips on her own and drained half the bottle before giving it back. “Thanks.”
“I don’t even need to tell you how bad this is, right?” He wasn’t interested in a response, started his lecture. “It’s wrong in so many ways. I can’t even wrap my head around your stupidity.” He looked at her without the steadfast love she’d grown accustomed to seeing in his eyes. “I don’t think I know you anymore.”
She listened without interruption, lay there and watched a hollow version of Nathaniel shake his head. Liberty was just as unsure of herself as he was, so didn’t see the point in arguing.
“You mind telling me what you think you were doing?”
She decided to tell the truth. Lies hadn’t helped her so far. “Meeting with Adrian at the rendezvous.”
“Really? Huh.” His expression remained focused, and for some reason, that worried her more than him ranting.
“Aren’t you going to yell?”
He shook his head, and looked at her like she was nobody. “Yell? Where’s yelling get me?” He leaned in closer, until his nose was an inch from hers. She could feel his breath, tell his jaw was set as the muscle in his cheek flexed.
She shrank back into the pillow, started to feel like she had in the back of Becky’s truck. “Well, what then?”
He spoke in a low and deliberate voice, “It’s settled, Liberty. You’re unwell and we’re going to Proem.”
No “I think,” or better yet, “What do you think?” Just like that he had decided. She hadn’t seen the decision coming, and the lack of choice left her speechless.
The words came flowing back all at once. “The hell we are. You.” She poked his chest for emphasis. “Maybe. But not me. Since when do you think you can disregard my Pardon?” She called his bluff and tried to keep a steady expression on her face, though she panicked inside.
“Hmm, let’s see.” He tipped his head from side to side like it was a scale truly weighing matters out. Then stopped and looked back at her. “Since you’ve gone…become unstable.”
She was about to, she really was. Nathaniel had pushed the button, the one he’d always steered clear of before, because he knew it was painful for her, but mostly because it was untrue. He didn’t believe she was unstable, he couldn’t possibly, but he had to feel out of control and so he tried to hurt her. Maybe slow her up a bit.
“You don’t mean it,” she said. “I know you don’t.”
“Actually, you don’t know what I’m thinking.”
Liberty tried to diffuse the situation, hoped there was a way to keep him from crossing a line he couldn’t uncross. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” She reached up and touched the bandage he’d put on her wound.
He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“It does if you care about me. If you love me.”
He didn’t blink, but she saw a shift in his eyes. It was either that or wishful thinking on her part.
When he didn’t respond, she continued, “The other day when Katie, Gabriel and Adrian left, and I went to sleep in the guest chamber?”
He crossed his arms. A wall. She was talking to a wall of Nathaniel.
“Well, Adrian had been looking at Sage’s album, and he left it on the cot. I found a note from him inside. Addressed to me. He said he needed to talk to me, to tell me more about Sage.” She felt tears well up, her vision got blurry. “He said he might know more concerning the day she disappeared.”
“I’ve reached my breaking point,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Why?” she swiped her eyes, “It’s like you’re so determined to be right, that you’d refuse to recognize your own daughter if she walked in this second.” She sat up, “Nathaniel, listen to me.” She reached for his hand. “I went to meet Adrian but he wasn’t there. I found a trail camera mounted nearby, though. I broke it up and buried it.”
He nodded. “I think we’re leaving at the right time, then. This area isn’t safe anym—”
“I don’t get you,” she snapped. “Stop being a bull and listen to me.” She tore off the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed, a little wobbly. “It’s too late. Weird stuff has happened. Someone took the clothes out of the rendezvous and the area was disturbed.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m afraid Adrian might be in serious trouble.”
She stood and started to walk away when Nathaniel grabbed a hold of her wrists and yelled, “Where do you think you’re going?”
Right as she believed the situation was going to get ugly, bloody, the hatch slammed and they heard a thud as somebody dropped down into the vestibule. Liberty hoped for Adrian, but the noise said this person wasn’t as slight of build. They froze mid-argument.
As the person began to run down the corridor, toward them, Nathaniel put his hand to her mouth to signal quiet. He quickly crept to the doorway, his chest expanding as he took in a deep breath ready to pound the intruder the moment they came into sight. A familiar voice called out.
“Nate? Liberty?”
Gabriel.
Liberty saw Nathaniel relax with relief and, in the span of a second, saw him tense again with worry as he stepped into the corridor. “Gabe? What’s wrong?”
“Are they here?”
“Who?”
Gabriel reached the doorway, pushed past Nathaniel, and stopped short when he saw her. “What happened to you? Tell me you’ve seen Adrian.”
Liberty recounted her night, repeating herself and then getting further than Nathaniel had let her. Gabriel sat on the bed with a towel from the vestibule around his waist, a mixture of desperation and despair on his face. Her heart went out to him. He looked a lot like she felt.
As nonchalant as possible, she said, “Have you heard Adrian wail lately?”
“Wail? Why?”
“The truth is, there happened to be a lot going on when the four-wheeler showed up, but I heard a call. And I know I’m not wrong because I heard it twice.”
Gabriel’s eye widened. Nathaniel looked unsure, but at least he hadn’t brushed her off as unstable for the moment.
“I also know it was male, but it sounded too mature for Adrian.”
Gabriel got to his feet. “Are you sure? Adrian is sixteen now.”
She shook her head. “Honestly? The more I think about it, it sounded like twelve feet and late stages. I guess I thought it might be him because, what other male is in our territory? I just don’t know.”
They looked at one another. She figured they probably all asked themselves the same question, but it was Nathaniel who spoke first, “If it’s not Adrian, then who?”
Liberty shrugged.
Gabriel looked at Nathaniel. “I have to go and see for myself.”
Nathaniel nodded. “I’ll go with you.” He looked at Liberty and said, “You should go be with Mitch.”
“I know.” As hard as it was to put aside the search, death didn’t make it a habit to wait around until it was convenient, at least not in Liberty’s world. “Becky said before we left it was getting close to the time.” She swallowed. “That he’d probably be gone before morning…” It crossed her mind it might already be too late.
“I’ll try to make it back,” Nathaniel said, “but it’s probably a good idea not to mention the events that have happened tonight.”
Of course she wouldn’t. The last thing Mitch needed was a heap of worry on the way out. What did Nathaniel think? She was a complete imbecil
e? “Yeah, okay.”
Liberty gave them directions and they left, cutting through the eastern portion of the property to shorten the distance. She left a note for Adrian, just in case he appeared there, telling him his father and Nathaniel were looking for him and she was with Mitch. If he showed up he needed to wait for them to come back.
Five minutes later Liberty was running through the tunnel on her way to the farmhouse.
Chapter Twelve
She entered the basement through the sliding door beneath the staircase. She was putting on her robe when Becky came into the tiny alcove.
“Honey, I was worried about you.” Becky looked Liberty over for injuries, “Are you okay?”
Liberty nodded, lifted the hair up on the right side of her head to show Becky the wound. It had already scabbed over. “Yeah, surface scratches heal fast.”
Becky assessed it, seemed satisfied it wasn’t life threatening. “Thank goodness. I was worried to see all that blood.”
“How is Mitch?”
“Oh, Lib. I tried to prepare myself for this, you know?” Becky’s bangs were damp and she wiped her sleeve across her brow before she gave Liberty a hug. “But I’m not ready.” She pulled away and looked at Liberty with shiny eyes. “I’ve decided I don’t want to say goodbye.”
Liberty sensed the double meaning in Becky’s words—referring to Mitch, but also her. Liberty looked at her best friend. “I don’t want to say goodbye either.” Liberty hugged her back.
“I love you, you know?”
Liberty nodded, her throat constricted and it made it hard for her to speak.
Becky pulled away and wiped the tears that ran down her face. “You ready?”
“Give me a minute?”
“Sure, hon. I’ll go in and tell him you’re here.” She patted Liberty’s arm and tried to put on a smile as she walked out from under the staircase, back toward the bedroom.
Liberty needed to compose herself. Pull it together so Mitch wouldn’t see her flustered. She wanted him to feel comforted, not looking fear in the face as he died.
She exhaled a long, cleansing breath and entered the open area of the basement. The first part had a cement floor and in the center of it, a pool table half covered in an old sheet. She didn’t want it to be true, but this may have been the last place her daughter was photographed. Would ever be photographed. She stood near the ledge where Sage had posed. She pressed down against the cool cotton fabric, her fingers irrationally sought the heat from Sage’s body. She pulled her hand away. It was cold.
To her right was the farmhouse’s second kitchen, the area Ellie had used to can vegetables.
She felt a little melancholy because she and Ellie had had some serious heart-to-hearts right there at the old wooden table, and the last one was the day before she’d died. Crazy how quickly she’d left them all.
“Psst.” Becky stood in the doorway to Mitch’s room, at the end of the hallway. Her aura pulsated opal around the edges. “He’s waiting.”
Liberty looked up. “I’m coming.”
Becky disappeared back into the room and, as Liberty reached the door, she could hear Mitch doing what she could only imagine was his attempt at breathing. Raspy, hitched, it didn’t sound life sustaining at all.
Liberty’s fears were confirmed when she entered the room. If she’d imagined Mitch couldn’t get any thinner, paler, more drawn, she’d have been wrong. He looked like a skeleton wrapped tight in flesh-colored cellophane, blue veins snaking under opaque skin. His aura had dimmed considerably and now was a dark and muddy gray, like a blown bulb.
The scent in the room was a mixture of fresh vomit and disinfectant. How was this man still alive?
She and Becky exchanged glances, then Liberty forced a smile and pushed herself to his bedside. He opened his eyes before she said a word.
“Liberty.” He patted the mattress with his bony hand. “Sit, please. I need to say something.”
She couldn’t bring herself to sit so close. She was afraid to hurt him, so she knelt down next to the bed, at eye level, and took his hand. It felt like she held a small bundle of icicles. “I’m here.”
Becky spoke up, “Would you like me to leave?”
Mitch shook his head. “No, you can stay…hear this, too.”
Becky looked at Liberty as if to ask if she minded, and Liberty smiled, it was fine by her. No secrets between friends.
Mitch stared into Liberty’s eyes for several moments, and when she opened her mouth to speak, to say anything to break the painful silence, he said, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Shh.” She placed her other hand on top of his and stroked it, tried to warm him up. “You’ve no reason to be sorry—“
He interrupted, “Please don’t.”
She nodded, encouraged him to go on.
“You remember when Sage went missing? The day after my Ellie died?”
How could she ever forget? “Yes.”
“I didn’t help you look for her—“
“It’s okay, Mitch, really. We understood. You were mourning.”
He shook his head in agitation and started a coughing fit. Becky picked up a glass of water, tried to give him some, but he waved her away. After a moment, he composed himself.
“Let me talk,” he whispered.
Liberty nodded and took his hand again. “Go ahead.”
“You never knew it, but I was there.”
“I’m sorry?”
“In the woods.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was on my way to the cavern to talk to you.” His eyes became watery. “And even through the thunderclaps I could hear Adrian’s cries. Though, at the time I didn’t know it was him.”
Not sure she fully comprehended, she leaned in a little closer.
“And when I followed the sounds, I finally realized they came from him. He’d been standing at the top of the embankment, looking down.”
Liberty heard Becky take in a sharp breath, and Liberty turned to look at her. What was he trying to say? Liberty narrowed her eyes at Becky, was she hearing this, too?
Liberty turned back to Mitch and said, “I don’t think I get what you’re saying.”
“Adrian never heard me, I think he was too upset. He ran along the ridge down over the hill, until he was out of sight. I crept to the lip, and took a look over.”
Her eyes were as wide as a barn owl’s, but she didn’t dare utter a word.
“It was your girl lying at the bottom. She looked busted up, and I knew it was bad because her form.” He held up a shaky hand. “Flickered, wavered.”
Liberty’s hands flew to her mouth and tears spilled down over her fingers. Oh please don’t say it. Liberty shook her head back and forth, thought the worst. Felt like she’d been punched in the gut. No, no. He’d taken her and buried her and left her aching and hoping all this time.
“How could you not tell me this before?” she managed as she got up from the floor.
Becky was behind her then, hands on her shoulders.
Liberty shrugged her off, no desire to be touched, turned on Becky. “Did you know this, too?”
“Of course not,” Becky said, and the surprise in her eyes was either a perfect performance or genuine. Liberty wasn’t sold either way.
“Lib, please,” Mitch begged but she was so confused the only sound she heard clearly was the blood as it pounded in her ears.
“Where is she?” She’d hurt him if he didn’t tell her. She believed she could.
“I’m not finished, sit.” His voice was raspy, but unmistakably firm.
She shook her head, no way would she sit back down. Liberty took a step backward toward the door, Becky close at the hip.
“Damn it.” He started to cough again. “Sage is alive.”
She and Becky gasped in unison.
Becky said, in a voice too loud for the small bedroom, “Is that why you’ve pushed us all away? Kept us from the house? To hide your secret?”
He ignor
ed her, looking at the windowless wall on his right. “She’s here with me. Has been the whole time. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before.”
Liberty followed his gaze and stared at the plain white wall as rationale spun around inside her skull and tried to find purchase. Were these the delusions of a dying man who saw ghosts no one else did?
Or were her instincts correct, and had Adrian been right all along? She wanted to believe Adrian more than anything.
She moved back to the bed and sat down next to him. His fragile state no longer a concern, she gripped his shoulders. “Mitch Montgomery, you explain yourself right this minute. Is she dead or alive?”
“Alive,” he said, in obvious pain. “Yes. Adrian had gone and wandered off and I ran all the way back to the house, jumped in my truck and drove down the utility road.”
She loosened her grip, still not trusting her ears, wishing Nathaniel were there to hear him, too. She wiped her tears with a sleeve and Becky put an arm around her shoulders.
“Then what?” she managed to ask him.
“She was unconscious when I arrived, but still alive.” He drew in a ragged breath, his body hitched and seemed prepared for another fit, but it subsided and he continued, “She faded in and out, human to Sasquatch. I knew I didn’t have much time. I pulled her out of the brush and, hell if she wasn’t heavy.”
He lost track, but he was right. Sage towered over Liberty, even at sixteen she’d stood nearly eight feet tall.
“Go on,” Liberty prompted.
“After some struggle, I got her in the back of the truck, covered her with a tarp and brought her home.”
“Is she here?” Liberty fought the urge to ransack the place. “Is she here in this house?”
He nodded. “Yes. I put her up in Kevin’s old room. I prettied it up, you know, some fresh paint and linens like Ellie would’ve done.”
Liberty hopped up and moved toward the door, and he continued to talk.
“I’ve kept her hidden to protect her. But she isn’t Sasquatch anymore.”
Liberty stopped, turned back to Mitch. “Isn’t what? What do you mean, she’s not Sasquatch?”
Mitch lay there, eyes closed, chest rising and falling shallowly.
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