The Butterfly Tattoo

by M. D. Thomas

  Sarah ran across the wet grass ahead of them, toward the parking lot, screaming and waving her hands at a man closing the rear door of a Jeep Cherokee. “Stop! Stop!”

  Jon didn’t stop moving and when he saw the Jeep leaving, he turned toward the Volvo. If we’d come a couple of minutes sooner, we would’ve made it here before it happened. If she hadn’t wanted food, I would’ve been in the room with Lee when the man came… Elle cried out in pain and he realized he was squeezing her even harder. He eased up and pushed her even faster. She stumbled and he held her up, her knees never hitting the pavement, like she was a toddler who had tripped while holding his hand.

  “Give me the keys,” Sarah said, breathing hard as she caught up just as Jon reached the Volvo.

  Elle picked that moment to try and break free, turned and brought a knee up toward his crotch. He shifted and her kneecap slammed into his thigh with a burst of pain. Without thinking, he grabbed a fistful of curls and slammed her forehead into the Volvo’s roof. Her knees buckled and she slumped to the ground.

  Jon gave Sarah the keys and she sprinted around the car. Thigh muscle aching, he pulled Elle out of the way, a trickle of blood running down her face, opened the rear door, then picked her up and shoved her inside the Volvo’s backseat. She tried to go straight through to the other door—the blanket working free in the process—but Jon grabbed the waist of her pants and held tight as she scrabbled at the door handle. He crawled inside, the car already moving, and her screams of protest meant nothing to him.

  Forty-Nine

  SARAH

  A Rainbow Pines security guard was running out of the main entrance waving his hands when Sarah drove past, and by the time she shot out of the parking lot she was doing thirty-five. The man who had Lee had gone right, so Sarah didn’t have to cross traffic, but she still caused one car to swerve and another to slam on its brakes, their horns blaring. Somehow no one collided with her or each other. In the back seat, the woman cursed as she was slammed into the door.

  “Do you see them?” Jon asked, his voice harsh.

  At first she didn’t, disoriented after the near accident she’d caused coming out of the Rainbow Pines parking lot. Then she spotted the Jeep a few hundred yards ahead, passing through an intersection, the light above turning yellow just as he passed beneath it.

  Sarah—the cut on her thigh burning—stomped the accelerator to the floor, something she’d never done before. The car hesitated for a moment as it processed what she’d done, then it dropped a couple of gears, the engine revving as it leaped ahead.

  “Stop you crazy bitch,” the woman shrieked as they hurtled toward the intersection. “You’re gonna kill all of us!”

  The light turned red and Sarah’s knuckles went white on the wheel as she swerved past a slowing car. Her right hand felt like a ball of fire, but she gripped the wheel even harder.

  “Jesus Christ!” the woman said, and Sarah felt the seat at her back bulge as the woman braced herself. Jon said nothing.

  Sarah tensed, eyes on the cars in the cross-street. She peeled one hand off the steering wheel and laid into the horn, holding it down. The blare spread ahead of them as the Volvo continued to accelerate.

  She took in the approaching traffic and came to the rapid conclusion that if anyone was going to hit them it would be the truck pulling out from the right, a behemoth Ford with dual tires in the rear, the exhaust pipes rising from behind the cab.

  Sarah veered slightly left, hoping to give them a little more room. They rocketed into the intersection, going what felt like two-hundred miles an hour but might have been sixty. She kept her eyes ahead, locked on the Jeep that held Lee, and the woman in the back screamed.

  Too slow, Sissy. Too late…

  If they hit us, they hit us. I’ll keep going as long as this piece of shit keeps moving…

  But they didn’t get hit, the big truck’s horn going off as it slammed on its brakes. At the same time a car from the other direction swerved behind them, missing by what couldn’t have been more than inches.

  “It won’t do Lee any good if we die trying to catch them, Sarah,” Jon said as the woman laughed hysterically.

  Sarah ignored them both. The Jeep was within reach and she was getting closer. She swerved into another lane, caused more horns to go off. She didn’t care.

  I’m coming, Lee. I’m coming…

  Fifty

  HARVEY

  Not a lake, but it’ll have to do, Harvey thought as he stopped the Cherokee just up the hill from the end of the Franconia-Springfield bridge, the span blocked by Road Closed signs topped by blinking yellow lights. Sandbags thrown across the metal feet kept any wind gusts from blowing them over.

  Harvey jumped out of the Cherokee, left it running. He’d seen the Volvo following him, had known who it must be. It didn’t matter. He was a few seconds ahead of them and that was enough.

  He opened the rear door and freed the boy from the seatbelt—he’d shifted around a bit on the ride over, but not much, his eyes still staring vacantly at the ceiling. Harvey pulled him out of the Cherokee, let the sheet fall from the boy’s lower half onto the ground, and then cradled Lee Young against his chest.

  Harvey turned to find the kid standing there, ball and glove gone, his hands limp at his sides, his eyes shining with excitement.

  The Volvo screeched around the final turn as Harvey followed the kid past the Road Closed signs. He clamored over the guardrail and walked toward the swollen Accotink, the creek less than a foot from the bottom of the bridge and at least three times wider than normal.

  The kid stepped lightly across the grass and stopped in tall weeds inches from the roiling water. Harvey followed carefully so he wouldn’t stumble—the ground felt soft and rotten and his heels sunk into the soil with every step.

  He reached the edge of the creek and halted next to the kid, the two of them looking at the Accotink. The boy in Harvey’s arms didn’t stir, his eyes gazing upward. A light rain began to fall, and a moment later the sun broke through the clouds, turned the falling drops into a shower of diamonds.

  “Are you sure?” Harvey asked the kid as the screams began behind them. “This is what you want?”

  The kid looked at him, his eyes intense, and nodded.

  Harvey stepped into the Accotink and the muddy, silt-laden water tugged at his calves.

  Facing upstream to resist the force of the current, Harvey slid another foot sideways toward the middle of the creek. The kid wanted the boy drowned, but Harvey was certain he shouldn’t rush, that the moment demanded a certain pace. He had no idea when the ground beneath him might drop off, plunging the two of them into the rapidly moving water.

  “Just a little farther,” Harvey said as he gazed at the boy’s face. He slid sideways another step, and the water slipped toward his knees.

  Fifty-One

  SARAH

  “Stop! Please stop!” Sarah screamed as she clamored over the guardrail, her eyes never leaving the man who held Lee as he entered the water.

  She tripped no more than two strides from the guardrail, her feet sinking in the soft dirt, and when she broke her fall, her injured hand felt like it would explode.

  He’ll finish what he started, drown him this time, and I won’t be able to stop him…

  The Accotink terrified her, reminded her of the pond, of the feel of smooth gray skin sliding across her thigh, of Adam's eyes as she’d pushed him under the final time, and she wanted to run screaming away from the flooded creek.

  I can't go in there…

  Half-submerged trees rose out of the water like the fingers of the drowning, and she could imagine how they would clutch at her as she was swept into them, dragging her down into the choking darkness. Down to where the fish lived and the bottom was covered in muck.

  I can’t…

  But there was Lee, curled against the man’s chest.

  Her Lee.

  The water was past the man’s ankles and Sarah knew that at any moment he could lose
his footing and slip into the water, that the current would take them and her Lee would be lost to her forever.

  But she couldn't move.

  I always knew we were the same, Sissy. Neither one of us could save our son from drowning…

  Sarah yelled in fear and rage and ran into the water, didn't make it two steps toward Lee before she stumbled and went down, before the current swept her downstream. She opened her mouth to scream, felt it fill with the cool tang of filthy water. She expelled the mouthful in a great whoosh, most of the air in her lungs going with it.

  Heart racing, logical thought gone in a film of terror, she flailed, unsure of what direction was up, her lungs already burning, and felt herself thump against the bottom, only to roll across it as the current tumbled her along. She kicked blindly, felt her feet connect with something solid, and a moment later her head popped above the surface, mouth sucking greedily at the air. She churned her arms and legs to try and keep her head up, tried to scream for help but got another mouthful of the Accotink that gagged her before she spit it out.

  No not again no… Lee…

  She tried to look for him, but her head kept bobbing above and below the surface and seeing anything other than brown, muddy water was impossible.

  Gotta get out…

  Sorry, Sissy. No one here to save you this time…

  Fifty-Two

  JON

  When the car stopped and Sarah leaped out, Jon yanked Elle from the Volvo’s backseat, pulled so hard she cried out in pain. Fighting her, he dragged her around the car, reached the driver’s side in time to see Sarah hesitate and then plunge into the water after the man who held Lee cradled against his chest.

  Sarah didn’t make it far before she went down with a cry, her body disappearing beneath the surface of the water still feet from the man and Lee.

  Jon screamed, not just at Sarah, but at the man, at Lee, a howl of terror and confusion as he dropped Elle to the pavement, forgotten.

  He took two long strides, planted one hand on the metal guardrail and swung his legs over, cleared it easily, hit the ground running. He moved fast, leapt ahead in big bounds.

  “Sarah!” he screamed as his right foot planted in the soggy soil for the last time, sunk to his ankle. It wasn’t enough to stop him, his forward momentum sucking him out of his shoe and the muck. His left foot—still clad in its shoe—entered the water and too late he realized his mistake. His foot failed to find the ground where he’d expected it and he pitched forward into the creek. The shallow water closed over his head, took hold of him with surprising ease, and swept him downstream.

  There was no time to think about Lee or Sarah, no time to think about what he should do next, only the dirty water blinding his eyes, roaring in his ears, filling his mouth. He bounced across the bottom, just beneath the surface, was trying to get his mouth clear when his right leg got snagged in some kind of vegetation and the current flipped him over and dragged him farther down. Lungs burning, mind demanding that he breathe, Jon tried to reach his foot, but he couldn’t even get his hands past his waist against the crush of water. He tried to push himself upward far enough to get his mouth above the surface, but couldn’t, his body strung out in the water like a flag in the wind.

  Jon knew he was about to drown in only a few of feet of water, couldn’t accept it with Sarah and Lee still in danger. He was about to draw the Accotink into his lungs anyway, when his foot came free and he tumbled downstream once more. He stopped the breath and spots of light popped in his eyes as he clawed toward the surface and emerged facing downstream to suck in air so sweet it was painful.

  The current pushed him toward the center of the creek as he fought to keep his head above water, carried him along so fast that before he could react he slammed into a tree trunk, the impact like a sledgehammer against his chest. Somehow he managed to wrap both arms around the tree and hold on. The water pulled at him, raked the flesh of his forearms down the bark as his feet were swept past him and he was tugged to the downstream side of the tree trunk. He lifted his chin, raised his mouth above the surface, and sucked in another breath.

  He clung there for a moment, the rough bark of the tree pressed against his chest and throat, devoid of thought. Then he remembered Lee and Sarah and the man, looked back up the creek in time to see Lee and the man disappear beneath the water.

  Fifty-Three

  ELLE

  Elle stood in time to see the shrew go under, the heel-licker not far behind.

  I hope they both drown, she thought, her head throbbing where she’d been slammed against the car, the cut between her ribs still burning.

  There was a car behind the barriers on the other end of the bridge, a man and woman standing behind the open doors yelling and pointing. No doubt they’d call the police if they hadn’t already.

  I need to get the hell out of here. Off this bridge, out of this city, out of this goddamn state…

  But the sight of Harvey with the boy in his arms stopped her.

  I can’t just run and leave him there…

  Her mother had run from her responsibilities over and over, and, in her own way, so had Elle.

  Cursing her own stupidity, she ran farther onto the bridge.

  “Get out of there you fucking idiot!” she screamed, her body pressed against the barrier rail.

  Harvey looked up at her and his face was so much more open than she’d ever seen it before, almost innocent.

  “It’s okay,” Harvey yelled. “He wants to drown just like Arky Vaughan!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? He’s in a goddamn coma! He doesn’t want anything!”

  Harvey said nothing, only stood there facing Elle for a moment longer, somehow resisting the push and pull of the river, then he looked down at the boy in his arms and the two of them disappeared into the water.

  “Harvey!” Elle screamed, but it was too late.

  They were gone.

  Got to do something… help somehow…

  She spun around on the bridge, unsure what she was even looking for, and that was when she saw the kid standing in the grass beside the water, decked out in a baseball uniform from head to toe.

  Watching her.

  No. No it can’t be him…

  But it was.

  The kid didn’t notice or didn’t care what was happening in the flooded creek, just stared at her for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. Then he started walking toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

  It’s him. He’s in the water with Harvey, but it’s him…

  Elle’s mind resisted, but there was no denying the kid before her. Just as there was no denying that Harvey had held the shrew’s son in his arms moments ago. She’d seen the picture of the kid in the hallway, and she’d seen the kid from Rainbow Pines in Harvey’s arms. There was only one—the shrew didn’t have twins.

  It’s the alcohol… straight to my head because I haven’t drank since the other morning…

  She’d almost convinced herself that was true when the kid… shifted. One moment he was in a Pirates uniform, the next he was in a Dodgers uniform.

  No… it can’t—

  Shift. He was in jeans and a t-shirt.

  No…

  Elle couldn’t move. Every ounce of her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn’t.

  Not with his eyes on her.

  Shift.

  No… please…

  Elle felt locked in place, as if her feet had sunk into the concrete.

  The kid—back in the baseball uniform—approached the guardrail, was on the grassy side one moment and on the road the next. He didn't step over it—he was simply in one place and then the other.

  Please…

  He walked toward her and the shifting accelerated, his clothes changing so fast they became a blur, the only constant his eyes on hers.

  I’m sorry. Please. I’m so sorry…

  The kid was five feet from her when he disappeared.

  One second he was there—eyes on
hers, the rest of him a blur—the next he was gone.

  Elle gaped, blinked in horror and confusion as her heart felt like it would erupt from her chest, her mind reeling from the impossibility of what she’d just seen.

  It wasn’t real… wasn’t—

  Except that was bullshit.

  She backed away from the guardrail, away from the Accotink and the boy drowning in its waters.

  “You okay, Ma’am?” a voice behind her asked.

  Elle’s heart leapt in fear and she spun around, expecting to see the kid reaching out to touch her.

  A girl stood a couple of feet away. She looked twelve or thirteen, her long blond hair framing a round face dominated by large, calm blue eyes.

  “You know the guy that took the kid in the creek?” the girl asked, as if she saw such things all the time, her thumb hiked toward the water.

  What if she’s really him? What if it’s just a trick?

  Elle shook her head. Afraid to turn her back on the girl, she took a step away.

  “Guy must be crazy or something,” the girl said.

  Is it him?

  When Elle kept backing away the girl frowned. Elle didn’t give her another chance to speak, only turned and ran as if death were on her heels.

  Fifty-Four

  HARVEY

  When the water enveloped his head, Harvey closed his mouth by instinct and left it that way, content to go slowly. He curled his arms around the boy, pressed the boy’s face in close against his chest, as tight as he could hold him. He wondered if the boy held his breath as well, if there was enough primal instinct left in his empty mind to do at least that much.