by T F Allen
“No idea. I was running when the lights went out. After that I trusted my instincts. When I heard her scream, I ran toward her.”
“What about Jolene?”
“Don’t worry, she’s safe. I sent her to get help.”
“How soon will it get here?”
Hannah shook her head. “Not soon enough.”
“He’ll kill all of us,” Sister Mary Elizabeth said. “You two need to leave right now. I’ll draw him to me after you’re gone.”
“Stop that,” Michael said. “We’re getting you out of here.”
A roar erupted from somewhere deep inside the caves. At first I thought it was an animal, but then the roar turned into a yell. The cave’s acoustics jumbled and distorted the words, but the point seemed clear. Donnie was on the hunt.
“All of us are getting out together,” Hannah said. “We’re not leaving you with that animal.”
“But he’s got a knife. And the remote for Michael’s collar,” the sister said.
“He’s not the only one. Hold still.” Hannah stuck her fingers between Michael’s collar and his neck. She slid her hunting knife behind the leather strap. With a flick of her wrist, the collar split apart and fell to the ground.
“Thanks,” Michael said.
“We need to get going,” she said. “Think you can carry her?”
He didn’t like the way she looked at him when she mentioned Sister Mary Elizabeth. Maybe she knew something he didn’t. Maybe she was lying when she said the sister would be fine. “Sure.”
“I’ll go first. You stay close and watch your back. He might try to come around from behind.”
“How will we know where to go?”
“I know exactly where we are.”
Hannah spoke so confidently Michael almost believed her. He scooped Sister Mary Elizabeth into his arms. Her eyes stayed closed, but her lips moved fast and soundlessly, like she was mouthing the words to a prayer. As carefully as he could, Michael lifted her from the floor.
Because of the way he held her, Sister Mary Elizabeth’s mouth settled close to his ear. She whispered to him between hurried breaths, “Remember, wherever you go, you never walk alone.”
“Let’s go.” Hannah crept through the doorway and into the next room.
Racks of barrels lined the room on all sides, leaving ten feet of open space—enough to give someone waiting in the shadows a running start. The ceilings were low and oppressive, holding in the cool, moist air. She swept her flashlight beam left and right, left and right, never pausing for more than a blink. Then she motioned to Michael, and they broke into a silent run toward the next doorway.
Even with Hannah’s flashlight leading the way, the darkness of the caves pressed against them like fog. There were so many places to hide in the rooms they walked through. Gaps between the racks that held the barrels, the many doorways Hannah didn’t sweep her flashlight beam across, ones she might not have seen. She was going too fast, but I understood why. The reason shivered in Michael’s arms. Sister Mary Elizabeth didn’t have much time.
Michael wondered how Hannah could be so sure of her way, but he hadn’t been there to see how easily she’d memorized the path between his apartment and Thatcher’s place. I knew she was using her photographic memory to retrace her steps, even though many of them came in total darkness.
When we entered the third room, Donnie yelled again. Now he was closer, no more than two or three rooms in front of us. Or maybe he was behind us. The acoustics disguised his location, but his words sounded clearer than before. “You think you can just leave? Never going to happen. That voice in your head—I’ll squeeze it out of you. Maybe then you’ll finally listen.”
I’d never been more certain I was doing the right thing. Michael and I shared the same mother, the same womb. We even shared the same tragic experience of being thrown into a dumpster and left to die. Though only one of us survived that night, we shared the life that came after. And I wouldn’t let it end now. My instincts had been right all along. I was born to protect my brother.
Knowing that truth gave me courage. Flashlight or not, I could see through the darkness better than either of them. I checked into every hiding place as they walked, keeping one hand on Michael’s back to let him know I was there.
Hannah didn’t look like she needed any reassurance. The signs I’d given her over the last few days strengthened her belief in her own destiny, and I knew she wouldn’t shrink from any confrontation ahead. Knife in one hand, flashlight in the other, she ducked her head and entered the next room with the same apparent confidence as when she charged down the steps to the underground cell.
Donnie knew these rooms better than any of us. He’d reminded himself of that earlier when he ground his fists into the floor. No doubt he’d be hiding in one of the rooms we needed to cross through to get out. Or maybe he was stalking us from behind, waiting for Hannah and Michael to become too focused on what was in front of them. Either way, I stayed alert for both possibilities.
The next room was twice as long as the others. Hannah’s tiny flashlight beam barely reached the other side. She turned to Michael. “Need a rest?”
“I’m good.”
“Still with us, Sister?” she said.
Sister Mary Elizabeth raised her arm and gave Hannah a thumbs-up. Her entire hand was covered with blood.
“Hang in there. We’re almost out. I’ll check the first half of this room, then we’ll move to the middle. After I clear the rest of the way, we’ll make for the door on the left.” She pointed her flashlight toward a dark doorway along the far left wall, just past the last set of racks. It was a blind corner. No way to predict what might be waiting there until it was too late.
Hannah swept the closest part of the room while everyone stayed perfectly still. No sign of Donnie. No sounds at all. “Let’s move.”
Just as we started moving, we heard them. The wailing sirens on the fire trucks echoed through the caves. Faint as they were, their sounds gave us hope that we might make it out without facing Donnie again in the darkness.
We ran twenty feet, then stopped. Hannah quickly scanned the rest of the room. She started to move again when we heard another sound. Click-click-click. Click-click-click. The sound repeated again and again. Hannah and Michael looked at each other. Neither seemed to know what it was.
I recognized it first. I shouted to Michael: The remote! He’s pushing the remote!
“It’s Donnie,” Michael said.
Sister Mary Elizabeth tensed in his arms. “God help us, he’s here.”
CHAPTER 35
No one saw him until it was too late. Donnie charged out from between two sets of racks and punched Hannah in the jaw. The blow knocked her out and sent her knife skittering across the floor. Her flashlight flew in the other direction, dropping us all into darkness.
Michael had little time to react. He lowered Sister Mary Elizabeth to the ground as gently as he could. Before he could stand, Donnie grabbed him by the shirt and drove him backward. He backpedaled to keep his balance, but Donnie kept pushing, forcing him across the room. They slammed against a rack of barrels.
“This is your fault,” Donnie said. It was so dark Michael couldn’t see. He could only feel hot breath against his face and neck. “You and that fucking voice inside your head, you caused this.”
I tried to pry Donnie’s hands away, but it was useless. He was so entirely focused on Michael right now, his anger boiling over. Michael was defenseless and still in shock. His hands rested on the barrel behind him. He didn’t even fight back.
Donnie pulled him away from the rack and threw him to the floor. It looked like he was reenacting the fight with his father, only this time he didn’t let go. Donnie went to the ground with Michael, straddled and pinned him with his knees. Then he started punching, left then right, one after the other, pummeling Michael’s cheekbones, temples, and nose. “You took my brother, my kingdom. Everything I loved.”
Sister Mary Elizabeth called out through the dark
ness: “Michael!”
My brother coughed out blood as it seeped into his throat. His face throbbed and stung. The pain was more intense than anything he’d ever felt. He jerked and twisted under Donnie, pulled a hand free, and tried to punch back. Donnie caught his wrist and pinned it against the floor. He pulled his knife and stabbed through Michael’s hand. The blade stuck into the ground like a stake. Michael screamed. The pain was excruciating.
“Everything comes so easily to you.” Donnie punched him again. “You need to know how it feels.”
Donnie’s hands went to my brother’s throat. At the same time, I went inside Donnie’s head. It was hotter than I could have imagined. Waves of heat passed through me, washed over me in a never-ending torrent. Cole’s voice bellowed into every corner of his mind, shouting, Kill! Kill! Kill! A thousand other voices joined in, each shouting the same word over and over, Kill! Kill! Kill!
I tried to stay long enough to shout back, but their combined strength forced me out of his head. I hovered above Michael, watching, hoping, praying, knowing there had to be some way to stop Donnie from killing him. For the last thirty years, I’d guided my brother through every stage of his life, from the endless carousel of foster homes in Louisiana to the clear night skies over Golden Gate Park, from his first encounter with a bully to this last, horrific showdown with Donnie. I’d been there for it all, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. Michael didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be stalked, kidnapped, and tortured. And he didn’t deserve to die because of the trouble I’d caused.
Michael struggled under the weight of Donnie’s body, but he could never win. His hand felt like it was on fire. Breath escaped his lungs in a wheeze.
Donnie was taking away the only thing that ever mattered to me. He was choking the life out of Michael. My emotions ignited and burned. All the sadness and regret at what Michael faced as a child, the misunderstanding and envy he suffered at the hands of classmates and rivals, the tragedy of losing Jolene, of missing his only chance at love, and all the undeserved guilt he threw on himself, thinking her disappearance and his success were somehow linked, and somehow all his fault, and knowing he’d never get another chance at any of it, the paintings that would never be painted, the words that would never be said—all of it simmered inside me, roiling, gathering, building into an energy I’d never felt before.
Donnie leaned in close and touched his nose against Michael’s. His hands squeezed tighter around his throat. “That’s it. I can feel it now.” He drew a long breath, like he wanted to suck out all of my brother’s energy. “We’re almost there. Just let go. Let it all go.”
I stretched out my arms and pulled my hands into fists. The energy grew too intense to keep inside any longer. I held it as long as I could, then it exploded free, creating a burst of light so bright that for a moment it washed out every detail in the room.
Every shadow disappeared. Brilliant white light illuminated everything I saw. The cave lost all its mystery and danger in that instant. Nothing could hide from the light coming from my body. It seemed to disarm everything and everyone it touched.
Then I noticed something more incredible than the light. Sister Mary Elizabeth looked at me. So did Hannah. They stared at my face, their mouths open, their hands shielding their eyes from the powerful light. They both could see me. For the first time ever, someone could see me.
Donnie saw me, too. He raised his head and smiled like he’d discovered something he’d been searching for all his life. He let go of Michael’s throat and reached out for me.
“Cole, is that you?”
Light streamed from my body as I hovered there, suddenly the center of attention in a room formerly coated in darkness. Hannah pushed herself up and shook her head like she was waking from a dream. Her eyes grew wide and glossy, and a laugh escaped her throat. Sister Mary Elizabeth turned onto her side. She made the sign of the cross with her bloody hand, then wiped a tear from her cheek. Michael gasped for air but still couldn’t look away. Seeing me was the answer to a prayer he’d voiced at least a thousand times—to one day catch a glimpse of his Keeper. Donnie stayed captivated by the glow of my body, seemingly deaf to the legion of voices in his head. Each of them stared at me as I filled the room with light.
Then Jolene charged through the doorway.
She entered at a full sprint, her dress flowing behind her, both hands gripping the handle of the flat-head screwdriver held high above her head. I could tell from the way she ran she wasn’t scared anymore. Her eyes projected a long-suppressed fury, and her voice shouted vengeance, all of it aimed at her abductor.
Donnie stayed captivated by my light, waiting for me to answer him. He never saw Jolene coming, never heard her primal scream. But he surely felt the tip of the screwdriver as she plunged it deep into his back. She drove it through his rib cage and into his heart, sinking the screwdriver all the way to its handle.
Her momentum pushed him away from Michael. Donnie’s chest landed flat on the floor. His eyes never closed. His head never turned to see who’d stabbed the life out of him. Jolene held tightly to the handle even after it was clear Donnie was gone. And she wouldn’t stop screaming, letting out all the emotions she’d swallowed during the last seven years, breath after hurried breath.
My light started to fade. I reached out for my brother. I wanted him to see how desperate I was to be near him. Even though his hand was pinned to the floor and he still hadn’t caught his breath, he extended his free arm toward mine. The tips of our fingers touched as my light went out, and the room fell into darkness again. But Michael knew I was still there. My brother would always know I was there.
Other voices echoed through the doorway—firefighters and police officers who’d probably heard the chaos of the last few minutes. Or maybe Jolene had led them here. I wasn’t sure. All that mattered was that they were coming.
Hannah ran between Michael and Donnie. In her hand was the flashlight she’d dropped, and in her arms was Sister Mary Elizabeth. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll make it.” He grabbed Donnie’s knife and pulled it free. He hissed in a deep breath as the pain streaked through his arm. “What about her?”
Sister Mary Elizabeth touched Michael’s cheek with her fingertips. Her skin was so pale, so white—as white as the light that streamed out of my body. “Did you see him, Michael?”
He grabbed her hand. “I saw him.”
Hannah laid the sister in Michael’s arms and crawled over to Jolene, who’d finally stopped screaming. She placed a hand on her back. “It’s over now. He’s gone.”
“I had to make him stop.” Jolene let go of the screwdriver and pushed herself away from Donnie’s body. “I just had to make him stop.”
“He was a monster,” Hannah said. “No one deserved it more than him.” She turned and looked at Michael like he held the Universe in his hand. “How did you know this would happen? That glorious star—it looked exactly like your painting.”
Michael shrugged. He knew the truth now, even though he could never explain it. “We need to get her out of here.”
He stared at the woman resting in his arms. Sister Mary Elizabeth’s eyes were closed. Her expression had changed. It looked like she’d finally let go of all her worries.
He kissed her smooth forehead.
“Sister Mary?”
“Sister Mary?”
CHAPTER 36
Hannah tucked her hands into the pockets of her Donna Karan coat, protecting them from the morning chill. The temperature had dropped into the twenties overnight—tying a record set the morning Michael and I were discovered. I wasn’t inside her head, but I knew she figured the weather was fitting. She pointed toward a row of tombstones thirty feet ahead. “This way.”
Michael, Jolene, and I followed Hannah through the cemetery connected to Saint Bartholomew’s Cathedral. Parishioners owned most of the burial plots here, but a special section had been reserved for nuns who’d spent their lives serving in the convent. Their tombston
es all looked the same: skinny, gray, rounded on top with a Latin cross etched above their name and the date they died. They were simple, understated, and beautiful, much like the women who lay beneath them.
Michael hadn’t visited Saint Bartholomew’s since the day he left on a bus for San Francisco. He’d put off making the trip as long as possible because he didn’t think he was ready to face what waited here. But I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wanted closure, and I needed Michael with me when I got it.
Hannah stopped in front of the marker. She grabbed the crystal charm hanging from her neck. This charm was different than the one she wore the night she chased after Michael—four long, skinny crystals set in silver and arranged in the shape of a Latin cross. She lowered her head, moved her lips so quickly I couldn’t read them, then gave the charm a kiss.
Michael and Jolene joined us in front of Sister Mary Elizabeth’s grave. He forced himself to read her name on the tombstone. His mind didn’t want to accept that she was really gone. Sister Mary was the closest thing to a mother he’d ever known. She’d followed him from foster home to foster home, financed his escape to San Francisco, treated him like a prince years before he ever picked up a paintbrush. It comforted him to know she’d been watching over him his entire life—just like she probably was even now. He turned and looked toward the cathedral, at the towering roof of the new chapel addition. She was up there somewhere looking down on us. He just knew it.
“She loved you like a son,” Hannah said.
“I loved her, too.”
“Yeah.” She stared at Michael the same way she had in the caves, like he was a movie star. I could tell she wanted to say something more, something she’d wanted to confess since they shared that ride in the taxi. But she seemed to change her mind before she spoke again. “I’m going inside. Whatever you need to do, it better be quick. They’re expecting you in ten.”
“We’ll be there in twenty,” Michael said.
Her shoulders dropped. She glanced back toward the cathedral. “I guess this is it, then. Good luck.” She reached for his hand, then stopped short. She’d obviously forgotten about his wound. It needed another month before the doctor would let him paint again. “Good luck to you both.”