“Geez, Thomas, next thing ya know you’ll be coming over wearing silly T-shirts saying, ‘World’s Greatest Uncle’ on them.”
Thomas paused, looking serious, took a step back and unbuttoned his blue dress shirt. Beneath was a white T-shirt that said, “World’s Best Uncle” printed in black bold letters on the chest. He feigned a look of seriousness then switched to a sheepish smile.
“I thought I might have to butter you up a bit more.”
“Oh, get in here before the neighbors see all this! I’m going to have to get the baby its own shirt, one that says, ‘I Love My Crazy Uncle Tommy!’”
Thomas grabbed the bag with lunch and walked in, taking an appraising look around. Sophie’s place was a small, three-bedroom and one-bathroom house in an older, but nice, neighborhood. The furniture in the living room was simple, a brown corduroy couch big enough for three with a small, black recliner set along the wall next to it. The usual stuff was there, a television and small entertainment center with some movies lined up inside, a couple of small plants and a coffee table, and on the walls some photos. Including family photos, back when the family could all still get together. He moved up to these and looked closely, a sad smile taking on his lips.
“Weren’t those the days, Sophie? Back when Mom and Dad were still alive and we still did things like Sunday dinners and family game nights? Don’t you miss that?”
Sophie moved up next to him, also smiling, but hers was the usual big, bright smile she always seemed to wear. She peered at the photos a long while, noticing how much she took after her mother, who was Hawaiian, and how much Thomas took after their father, who was German. It had been five years since a tragic car accident had taken them away.
“So much, Thomas. We had such an amazing childhood. I miss them every day.” With that last part, her tone and smile saddened, but then she picked up again. “Soon we’ll have a little one to add to the family. Aaaand,” she looked sideways at him, “I’m still hoping one day my big brother will get himself a doting wife to add more to the brood.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, mom isn’t around to do it anymore so you take on the job?”
Sophie looked up at her big brother, a loving look, and placed her hand on his cheek. “It wouldn’t be so bad to have a sister you know. Or a little nephew that could give this one someone to play with at the park.” She was gently patting her tummy. “Won’t be long now Tommy, so you’d best get busy.” She laughed and gave him a swat on the shoulder. “Say, let’s eat. I’m starving, what did you bring me?”
They walked into the little dining room adjoining the kitchen. Thomas placed the bag on the table and laid out the food he’d brought for them. There were two salads in plastic containers, and a white box holding some baked chicken, and another box full of pasta with Alfredo sauce. He sat while Sophie placed some plates and silverware on the table then joined him. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the only noises being the smacking of lips and the occasional sigh a great pasta can bring. Normally he would have liked a nice Pinot Noir to accompany a meal like this one, but he didn’t want to drink in front of Sophie. She liked a nice red with her pasta as well. Then, after the recent months of long silences between them, he decided he wanted to keep the momentum up, while carefully avoiding anything about what happened on the island.
“So, the time is near, huh sis? Are you getting nervous?”
“Nervous, ha! More like terrified! I’m sure everything is going to be fine, it’s just the process of getting there that freaks me out.”
“You know I’m there for you, right? Have all your check-ups gone well? You like your doctors?
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a mouthful. She paused to finish chewing, “Everything has been great. The doctors are great, hospital is great, no worries on any of that.” She gave him a big, warm smile, “Now that you’re here I’m feeling a bit braver.”
Thomas smiled. He had another subject he’d been wondering about but knew he had to approach it delicately. His sister was tough as nails. She’d always been very positive and mentally strong, but these last several months had proven this was a touch and go subject.
“Sis, I hope this doesn’t upset you.” He saw she was looking sideways at him, mouth now paused in the act of chewing. She probably was expecting something along these lines. He’d have to be very careful and it wasn’t the best way he could have chosen to start. “You will have a lot of support here, with me obviously, and Stacy. I like her. I’m just wondering … has there been any contact from …” he looked down at the child that was soon to be joining them, “the other side of the family?” As soon as it was out he braced himself for the worst.
Sophie only smiled a sad little smile and looked back down at her food, pushing noodles around absently with her fork.
“No, nothing. It sounds bad under the circumstances, but I don’t know much about his family. Jacob’s family.” She looked up at him after saying the name and smiled tentatively. It was her way of showing him she was okay. “I did ask, in the brief time we had together. He was quiet on the subject. He did let on he was an only child. If there is family, I don’t think we’ll be hearing anything from them.”
Thomas nodded. “What about Stacy? Will you two keep on as roommates after the baby?”
“Yes, I think so. For a time, anyway. We’ve talked it over and she seems happy with the situation, but who knows? I’ll just have to see how it goes. With all the crying and dirty diapers, she may just decide she wants to be a bachelorette again.”
“I just want it out there, sis. You’re welcome to come live with me.” He reached over and squeezed Sophie’s shoulder. “Anytime. You know there’s plenty of space. You wouldn’t have to pay for anything, of course. It would be nice having you and the baby around. We could even get a dog.”
“Oh, you’re really selling it! Who knows, it is a lovely picture.” She smiled over at him. “Let’s see how Stacy takes the changes. We’ll find out soon enough. If things go badly then we might have to talk more on that.”
“Speaking of soon …” Thomas raised his eyebrows at her, a fork full of pasta raised halfway to his mouth.
“Two weeks from today,” she said. “Sometimes I feel ready and sometimes I feel like this can’t possibly be happening to me. Like it isn’t real. To have a little baby to take care of? Can you imagine? One day you’re just roaming around the world carefree with nothing to worry about then suddenly you’ve got a little person who relies on you for every little thing. In a way, it doesn’t seem natural. Like evolution missed a step. Maybe if mom were here …” She sighed and went back to her food.
“You’re going to be just fine, Sophie. A real natural, like everything else you do. You’ll see. And I plan on being around a lot from now on,” he smiled crookedly at her, “whether you like it or not.”
3
The next two weeks went by quickly, each day faster than the one before. Thomas, remaining true to his word, did spend a lot more time around, even staying there the last few nights before the due date, just waiting for the moment when he could take charge and get Sophie to the hospital. Other than that, he felt rather helpless. He focused his energies on helping to pick up the already spotless house, catering food, and helping Sophie up out of the recliner every thirty minutes so she could use the restroom. The lawn stayed mowed, the mail got picked up, and the garbage can emptied.
Sophie, on the other hand, rather enjoyed her time spent with Thomas around again. Despite the feeling of having a bowling ball sitting on her bladder and a constantly aching back, she had her brother, and that made her happy. Another thing that made her very happy, the dreams were much less frequent. She dreamt some of Jacob, but good dreams, nothing cryptic or dark. The other one, Him, she didn’t dream of at all, which left her feeling much better rested. She even started craving baths again, which was something she had avoided since that day that Thomas first came over for lunch. Now though, her time was almost near, and she desperately wanted a nice, h
ot bath to relax in before things got crazy. It might be her last chance for a while.
“Thomas?” She looked over at him on the couch, using her puppy dog eyes.
Thomas stood from the couch right away and reached out both hands to help her up. His training seemed complete and she had to smile through a tinge of guilt.
“Sorry, it isn’t that. I was hoping maybe you would draw me a bath.” She gave him her most winning smile.
Thomas just grinned back, gave her hand a squeeze, and walked off toward the bathroom. A moment later she could hear the bathwater running. After a few minutes, he returned and helped her up off the couch.
Easing into the tub was no easy task but she managed and she thought it was oh, so worth it. The water was perfect and she swished some lavender oil around to help soothe her. Thomas had even lit a candle and placed it on the edge of the sink. She sunk deep down into the water and cleared her mind, not thinking of the upcoming responsibilities of being a new mother. Before long, her breathing deepened and became steady.
When she next opened her eyes, it was dark. Sophie decided the candle must have burned itself down. The water was cooler but still comfortable. The funny thing was, laying back and looking up at the ceiling, she thought she could see pinpoints of light, like stars. Then more light began to make itself known, creeping out toward her from the edges of her vision. She reached out for the sides of the tub, intending to push herself up in the dark and grab for a towel, but as her hands went out they touched nothing, only splashed down on more water.
Fool, she thought.
Sophie raised her head up, feeling a growing alarm in her chest. From off to her right she saw a soft orange light and upon focusing her eyes toward it she recognized it immediately. Then she knew where she was, back in her dream, back in the lake, and back on the island. Another lucid dream, she thought. She could even smell the salt wafting up from the water. Then she wondered whether the light was again created by the torches or whether they were created by Him.
She looked down at herself and saw her belly sticking up a foot out of the water, the light shimmering off her stretched skin. Then she noticed another light, this one different from the other, like a glow in the water, rising beneath her. Scared now, she moved into action and began an awkward backstroke toward the little island with the torchlight. He might be there, but at least there was some light to see by. To go any other way was to move toward the darkness.
Before she made it five feet, the glowing light came up beneath her and enveloped her, making her appear as if she were a dark bruise on virgin white skin. The water now within that glow grew cold and her skin broke out in goose bumps, but there was no pain, no physical attack of any sort. The light just seemed to envelop her in a cold blanket, and she no longer had to concentrate on floating, for it held her in place. Then she was being propelled swiftly and smoothly toward the island and the pyramid. She went for the ride without struggle, feeling complacent, almost curious, waiting to see where this dream was going to take her.
Once she felt herself touch ground, she worked her way to her feet and on to dry land. After the cold of the water, the torchlight in the pyramid looked rather inviting. Where else would she go? Walking toward it she glanced back over her shoulder to see the glow of light shrinking, gradually getting smaller and smaller. She focused again on the light ahead, moving up the steps and in through the doorway.
The interior of the pyramid looked the same as always. Which was to say, nothing had changed from her previous visits, including the altar, tables, torches, and white cloth. The stories drawn upon the wall were no different either. Now she was getting increasingly curious, why was she here? What was her subconscious wanting to tell her? She looked up into the darkness overhead and saw something had changed after all. Hanging a few feet above her head was an old, brass lamp, lit and throwing off a pleasant, warm glow.
Suddenly the warmth faded and she felt the cold again, just like in the water, only this time it was in the air behind her. Turning swiftly, she let out a short, barking scream. Right behind her, towering over her, was Him, the Torchbearer, head tilted down toward her with that swirling eddy for a face.
Before Sophie could even half turn to run, He placed two hands on her upper arms, clamping down with grips of iron, and she felt her feet leave the ground.
This is it, she thought. He doesn’t need me, He just wants the baby. He’s going to rip it out of me. The thought stirred her again into action and she began to kick out and twist in his arms but it was like moving and striking against a brick wall.
He brought her closer to Him, toward that twisting black hole, and she thought maybe that’s how it would end. Maybe He wouldn’t rip her apart at all, He’d just absorb her and she’d disappear into the dark maelstrom, swallowed up to become a part of Him forever. Would that destroy her, she wondered? Would her soul perish?
Instead of finding out, she remained firmly in reality, feet lifted high up off the ground, face to face with the demon, and slowly lost all sense of being. The struggle left her and she soon hung limply, unknowing, and uncaring. Barely aware now of who she was or where she was.
The Torchbearer walked in front of the altar and laid her down gently on the stone surface. Water still dripped off her, pooling on the slab surface beneath her naked body. He reached down and parted her legs, then slid his rough hands along the stretched skin of her stomach, almost as if to massage her. All the while, Sophie’s eyes stared sightlessly at the soft glow of the lamp hanging overhead.
Soon, there was a commotion, the blaring and plaintive bawl of a newborn child filling up the pyramid. All the lights seemed to increase in their intensity until the pyramid was lit up like the sun over a desert horizon, welcoming the start of a new day.
A low, rumbling laughter echoed out from the doorways and across the dark waters. The sound carried further, across the small landscape and over the mountain. It bounced around inside caves, vibrating bones. It reached the outer shores of the island and beat against the ocean’s edge.
All around the island, dark shadows danced as if the laughter were music. They moved in and around each other, shifting and vibrating, whether in agitation or joy, it was difficult to tell.
4
Thomas was stretched out on the sofa, long legs dangling over the end. He expected Sophie to be in the tub for a while, so he figured it would be an appropriate time to catch up on some rest, since he was off the hook from having to get up every thirty minutes to assist her to her feet. His mind was off drifting in the place between the troubles of the physical world and the wonders and mysteries of the dream one. A place where a person wakes up feeling like they must have slept but can’t recall having fallen asleep. It was a pleasant place to be, and on some level of consciousness he was enjoying it.
Then a bloodcurdling scream shattered the peaceful world he was in, and everything fractured and blew apart.
Thomas was on his feet instantly and racing toward the bathroom. The scream was coming out in a long, continuous assault. So powerfully he felt almost as if it were a physical force he was having to work against. Like two ghostly hands pressing against his chest to slow his progress. He pushed forward through the bathroom door, flipped on the light, and nearly slipped and fell on a pool of water now covering the floor.
Sophie was in the tub, eyes and mouth wide, a shriek coming up out of her mouth so intense he could barely stand it. Her elbows were bent at ninety-degree angles, hands placed up in front of her and formed into claws. It was in seeing her hands, hovering out over her midsection, he saw something his mind had trouble accepting.
Sophie’s stomach was no longer the enormous mound of stretched flesh now, just a close version of what it was before she became pregnant. Just a little swollen, but flat enough to sink below the surface of the water. Water which was dark and crimson with blood.
Thomas’s concern for his sister passed instantly and turned toward concern for the child that shouldn’t yet be here. He dov
e forward, hands splashing into the water at the foot of the tub, intending to snatch the child up before it could drown. Frantically he groped around, bloody water splashing up on to his face, but he found nothing. Panicking now, he yanked the drain plug and glanced up at his sister, wanting to make sure she hadn’t already placed the baby up next to her, but he saw nothing. She had stopped screaming but he hadn’t realized. Now she just stared blankly up at the ceiling and moaned a long, despairing sound.
“He has him. He has him. My baby, He has him.” She repeated it, eyes wide with shock.
Thomas stared at her in complete and utter confusion, then went back to scanning the tub, which was nearly empty. There was no baby.
“I don’t understand,” he said, his voice a croak. Then yelling, “Sophie! I don’t understand!”
He stood, bloody water soaked through his pants and shoes, and backed out of the bathroom as if he, too, might disappear. His eyes flashed toward the open toilet, noticing with relief, and more than a little shame, that it was clean and empty.
Sophie offered no explanation, she couldn’t. She merely cradled her now flattened tummy and whimpered softly.
Just then the front door opened and Thomas heard Stacy’s voice call out through the house. “Hello, I’m home! Any new additions while I was out?”
Ironic, he thought. He walked out to the living room where Stacy was tossing a backpack and small bag on to the couch. As soon as she saw him enter her mouth opened wide, jaw hanging slackly down near her chest. He watched her, thinking he should offer up some sort of explanation but realizing there was no explanation for what just happened. He didn’t even know what had just happened.
Stacy continued to stare at him dumbfounded for a moment and the dark red splotches on his knees, then snapped out of it long enough to talk.
Cave of Bones (Dark Island Series Book 2) Page 3