by Amy Braun
My eyes ran over the diner again, my body stiffening and my pulse starting to quicken. I’d lost sight of the cook. Was he in the back of the kitchen? Had he looked at me and recognized me? Was he calling the cops? I’d made Dolly nervous. She must have said something to him by now.
I focused on my food, forcing it into my mouth and chewing more than tasting. The far door of the diner kept opening and closing, filling up with the morning seniors and hungry regulars. I kept my head down, but we were going to have to leave soon. Dro noticed this too, taking a break from her pancakes to eat some of the berry salad.
The doorbells tinkled behind me again. I twisted in my seat, hands loose and ready to go for a weapon. Two large men walked in. One was wearing a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves and dirty denim jeans while the other one wore a black Creedence Clearwater Revival shirt and light blue jeans. I saw them both look at Dro, staring at her with wonder and amazement. Creedence whispered something I couldn’t hear to Plaid, and I felt the tension build in my muscles yet again.
What were they saying? Did they think they could try something? Would they listen if I told them to stop looking at Dro and fuck off? How fast would I have to move to stop them? Could I reach a knife in time if they left me no choice?
They took their eyes away from Dro and beamed when Dolly’s chipper voice called them over. I watched them sit at the long booth across from us. Only Creedence looked back at Dro.
“Do you want to leave?”
I looked across the booth at my sister. She’d eaten about half her food, but stopped when she saw how uncomfortable I was. I looked down from her concerned blue eyes and poked some of the potatoes with my fork.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “Just wish it were the two of us.”
Dro was looking at me with a frown on her face, but I pretended I was all right. That I didn’t hate places where I couldn’t see everything. That I didn’t like the cook. That I didn’t have a minor anxiety attack when the doors slammed open and someone I didn’t know walked inside a place I was unfamiliar with.
Pretend you’re normal, Constance. Give Dro her wish.
Maybe I could have kept faking for another five minutes, if Creedence and Plaid didn’t have such loud voices and a habit for gossip.
“Did you hear about the bodies they found in El Paso? Can’t imagine what kind of animal could tear up a body like that. Sammy was saying the body was shredded like red confetti.”
Dolly was laughing loudly with some of the seniors. The regulars were talking over them. The kids started screaming at each other. The parents raised their voices to calm down. The cook slammed things around in the kitchen.
“What about that execution a couple days ago? Guy had his intestines torn out and wrapped around a damn bouquet of red roses.”
My heart started racing. The Blood Thorns were two days away from us. The monsters were even closer. They were on our trail. The monsters could sense Dro, and the Blood Thorns would know how to track me. We were going to be found unless I did something. Unless I moved us out of the town and headed somewhere safe.
But nowhere was safe. I might know how to run from the Blood Thorns, but the monsters? I didn’t know what they were. I didn’t know how to keep Dro safe from them. I didn’t even know what she was and why they wanted her so badly.
I hadn’t even known I was shaking until Dro reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. I looked up and inhaled, the havoc of the world starting to dissolve around me. Dro tried to smile, but the concern in her ice blue eyes was easy to see. She squeezed my hand.
“I don’t know about you, but I can’t eat another bite. What do you say we get this all to go? I’m sure it’ll last for a couple days, and I know how fanatical you are about leftovers.”
I let out a laugh, though it sounded forced. Dro smiled, gave my hand one more squeeze, then signaled Dolly for the check and to-go boxes. I reached into my pocket and pulled some crumpled bills from our reserve cash. As I tossed the money on the table, I glanced at my sister and thought about what she’d said about trying to talk to a priest.
Deep down, she knew I was going to give in. Dro didn’t ask for much, and whenever she did, it was for a good reason. I preferred to be blissfully ignorant. It was easier than knowing the truth. But I would deal with the truth for Dro’s sake. Partly because I knew she was right, but mostly because she had asked me.
Dolly walked over, handing us the boxes.
“Where’s the nearest church?” I asked out of the blue.
The middle-aged blonde waitress looked at me like I was from the moon. “Church?”
“Yeah, the place you go to pray and stuff. Where is one?”
Dolly hesitated, then said, “You can go to Father Colin at the Church of the Redeemer, up the street and two blocks to the left. He should be there now.”
I gave her a nod and started dumping the food into the Styrofoam cartons. I was moving quickly while Dro was charming the waitress. I just wanted to get out of here before I had another minor panic attack. As soon as we slipped out of the booth, I headed for the door and stood next to it, glancing around the diner to see if anyone was going to try anything while our backs were turned.
Dolly was talking to the cook. Creedence and Plaid were gossiping, Creedence taking the occasional look to Dro. The seniors and regulars hadn’t even noticed us. The family was calming their children down. The little girl turned in her seat and waved at Dro. My sister waved back, then left the diner. I followed behind her, catching up to her side.
“So Father Colin at the Church of the Redeemer, huh?” said Dro.
I shrugged. “Guess so.”
A faint smile passed my sister’s lips. “Thanks, Connie.”
I stifled a laugh. “Don’t thank me yet. We haven’t even met the Padre yet.”
“I was saying thanks for breakfast.”
I glanced at her uncertainly. “The food was good, but it wasn’t what I would call ideal. Or normal.”
“Maybe, but for a moment it was.” Her smile softened. “Besides, it seemed like us.”
She was right. But I wasn’t sure if that was a happy thought or a depressing one.
***
I’m a skeptic. Given all the paranormal and outright insane things I had seen and endured, I shouldn’t have been, but it was a habit I just couldn’t break. I needed facts and proof. I couldn’t just blindly accept something because it was dressed up with pretty words and magic.
So I don’t like churches. I don’t like religion. I don’t believe in God. They were going to kick me out as soon as they got a look at my dirty jeans, roughed up military jacket, and unwashed hair. And that would be before they realized I was carrying four throwing knives in my jacket and a hatchet on my hip.
It was mid-morning as we made our way up the steps to the Church of the Redeemer. Dro stared up at the tall white steeple at its top while I was thinking about what I could do in Amarillo for money. Maybe we’d be able to get some quick work in and make a little more cash or get us another decent Southern meal. All I had reserved now was eighty-five dollars, and that wouldn’t be enough to get us to… wherever the hell our final destination was.
Dro pushed open the doors to the church and walked inside with me right behind her. The church was what you might call ‘modern gothic.’ The nave was wide with dozens of long, well polished pews, the curving roof over my head seemed to actually stretch up to Heaven. The stained glass windows glistened with rainbows of light. At the end of the nave was the lectern, with a tall pulpit and a gleaming brass organ behind it. I guess it was a nice church, but I also thought it was a little pretentious.
Dro dipped her pale fingers into the bowl of holy water near the door and crossed herself, saying one Hail Mary. I dipped my fingers in the bowl too, but only because my fingers were dirty and I needed something to clean them with.
God wasn’t going to forgive me for the things I had done. One more misdeed couldn’t damn my soul any further.
&n
bsp; “Hello?” Dro called to the empty church, her elegant voice echoing against the walls. “Father Colin? Are you here?”
Out of one of the doors on the far right corner came a man in a black priest cassock. He was older, maybe his late fifties, his skin tanned from being in the sun on his off days. In addition to the crisp, white collar around his throat, he wore a long silver rosary that rested against his slightly chubby middle. He greeted us with a warm smile and kind blue eyes.
“Welcome, children,” he drawled. “It’s always good to see young folk coming to pray in the name of our Lord.”
I almost laughed at him. He just sounded so damn corny. I coughed instead, Dro shooting me a look over her shoulder to keep me from saying anything rude for the moment. She turned back to the priest and smiled.
“We’re looking for Father Colin. A waitress at the Blue Sky Diner said we could find him here.”
He grinned. “You’ve found him.”
She sighed. “That’s great. We could use some help.”
“Come for confession, child? I’m glad you wish to cleanse yourself of any impure thoughts, to absolve yourself of any sins and redeem yourself in the eyes of the all gracious God.”
I didn’t like the way Father Colin was looking at her, his eyes quickly running up and down her body. If anything, he was the one who needed to confess something.
Dro probably noticed his wandering eye, but she didn’t say anything. “Not exactly, Father,” she admitted. “We have some questions.”
He smiled. “Of course. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Dro hesitated. “What can you tell us about… demons?”
His smiled vanished. “We don’t speak of demons in the house of the Lord, child. Not unless we’re speaking of cleansing them.”
“I understand that but, I… I can sense things about people. I have nightmares where I do terrible things.” She hesitated again. “I’m wondering if I might be possessed.”
I looked at the back of Dro’s snow-white head. I was glad she hadn’t said that she could supernaturally heal anyone’s wounds and spontaneously combust into fire hot enough to melt metal in two minutes flat, but some subtlety would have been nice.
“Then we’d better test you and see,” Father Colin said, blue eyes no longer friendly. “Follow me.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
The priest looked at me. “To the back of the church. I need some privacy.”
“No,” I said. “Whatever you have to do, you can do it out here, and in front of me.”
“Con,” Dro started.
I cut her off with a single look. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not possessed.”
“But–”
“No ‘buts.’ ”
“The girl wants to be tested, then she has the right to be tested,” said the priest.
I gave him a look so cold he flinched. He was probably thinking I was the monster. He wasn’t totally wrong. Father Colin quickly looked at Dro again, taking in how strange she was. She probably didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen before. There weren’t many pale girls with snow-colored hair in Texas, and if there were, none of them looked quite like my little sister.
As soon as he realized I wasn’t going to leave, he turned and walked to the stage beyond the pulpit. Dro and I sat on the bench in front of the organ as he took out a Bible, holy water, and Eucharist crackers. Dro sat nervously with her hands on her lap, while I leaned back against the organ and tucked my hands under my armpits, ready to go for a weapon if the priest did something unsanctified.
Threatening a man of God was low and I didn’t want to do it, but Dro’s safety came first.
Father Colin dripped some holy water onto the top of her head, then gave her a Eucharist to eat. When nothing happened, he showed her the cross on his rosary and spoke some lines from the Bible. Still nothing. He frowned, then closed the book, held it to his chest, and looked deep into her eyes.
“Do you speak with the Devil?” he asked.
Dro shook her head.
“Do you go into obscene fits and rages?”
She shook her head again.
“Do you speak unusual languages?”
Another shake of her head.
“You claim to sense things about other people. What kind of things?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, looking at me. I shrugged. This had been her idea and I wasn’t going to talk her out of it, because I didn’t have any better ideas myself. But I gave her a steady look that let her know I was here for her, and would keep her safe. Dro looked at Father Colin again.
Her eyes narrowed in concentration. The priest stared at her without emotion, ready to dismiss anything she said.
Then she spoke.
“You… You keep some of the money from the collection bowls for yourself. You’re jealous that Mr. Harrison has a BMW. You lust after Jebediah’s youngest daughter,” she said quietly, as if these were her sins to confess and not his. “You asked her to come to the church to see you alone, and when she didn’t feel the same way you did, you got angry and–”
I’d been watching the priest’s face the whole time Dro had been pulling out his dirty laundry. He went through a whirlwind of emotions. First, there was shock. Then horror. Then anger. And finally, fear.
“How do you know this?” he interrupted in a panicky breath.
“I don’t know,” Dro said desperately. “Please, I’m trying to find out, I–”
“Only a spy or worshipper of the Devil would create such lies!”
Father Colin’s shout bounced off the walls of the church, making it sound even louder. Dro jumped and I straightened, getting in front of him and reaching for the hatchet at my hip.
“That’s a pretty harsh assumption, Padre,” I said, warning in my voice.
He looked at me, but pointed at Dro. “Only demons can read minds and speak false truths!”
I gave him a blistering look. “My sister doesn’t lie.”
He grimaced. “Then you consort with the devil’s ilk,” he snarled.
“Stop jumping to conclusions,” I snapped. “She’s in a church. You used the holy water. She ate the Eucharist. You asked her if she was possessed. She told you she was different. So answer her question.”
“I did,” Father Colin spat, glaring at her again. “She is the spawn of the devil.”
“What if she were a prophet?” I asked. “Did you ever consider that possibility?”
He looked at me like I’d slapped him. If he kept his attitude up, I just might.
“A prophet of the Lord would not resort to vile, wretched lies to prove they were in God’s service,” he said as if everyone knew that. Maybe he was right, but Dro had tried to get him to listen to her. Revealing his secrets was the best way she could do that.
“I’m sorry. I just want to know what I am,” she whispered from behind me.
She sounded so small that I actually turned to look at her. Dro’s blue eyes stared down at nothing, worry and nerves creasing her forehead and making her seem older. My heart ached to see her so scared. I was about to go over and comfort her, but the priest opened his mouth again.
“I do not suffer demons in my church,” Father Colin said. “If she was possessed, I could help her. But she shows none of the typical symptoms. Whatever she is, it is unnatural, and she does not belong in a house of God.”
I tightened my grip on the hatchet to reign in my anger. “Fine by me,” I growled. “Come on, Dro. Let’s get out of here.”
I waited until she walked past me before following her. The priest turned in front of me, giving me a sharp look.
“If either of you breathe a word of what she said–”
I put my hands on my hips and let his eyes drift down so he could see the knives and the hatchet I was carrying.
“You’ll what?” I challenged.
Father Colin backed off. Our stay in Amarillo was going to be shorter than I thought. I shouldered past the priest, w
ho moved back farther than was necessary. He was an asshole, but I wasn’t going to hurt him. I didn’t need to. Let him stand behind his pulpit and jump at shadows. I didn’t care.
Dro was waiting for me on the steps outside of the church. She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. Any happiness and peace she might have felt at breakfast was gone. I debated going back in the church and smacking Father Colin, but instead I stood next to my sister and tilted my head to look at her.
“You okay, Dro?”
She nodded, clearly lying to me. “I just thought he’d want to help us.”
“Maybe he wanted you out of there so he could work on an alibi in case you go to the cops,” I said.
“I still plan on doing that anonymously,” she said. “He shouldn’t have gotten away with some of the things he’s done. Elizabeth was so scared, she probably never told anyone what he did to her.”
Elizabeth, the name of the daughter the priest had traumatized. We had never met her, probably would never meet her, but I couldn’t help but think about the last Elizabeth Dro and I had known when we were kids…
***
If Dro was too shy for her own good, Elizabeth was too chatty for her own good.
Mom had just left for work and Dad was on his way home, but for about an hour it would be just Dro and me. She was five and I was nine, and we decided to play outside for a little bit. We weren’t supposed to because we didn’t live in a nice neighborhood, but the sun was shining and we didn’t have school that day. I was playing with an old soccer ball while Dro was playing with some dolls Mom had given her from the Salvation Army.
Then, Elizabeth showed up.
There wasn’t anything wrong with her, except that she was super annoying. She was my age, and she never stopped talking. Some days I wanted to scream at her to shut up. Other days I wanted to stick my fingers in my ears and say, “I’m not listening, I’m not listening!”