Misty Falls

by Joss Stirling

  Perhaps they’d come while he fetched his case. That would be even better as he wouldn’t be able to touch me.

  He went back into the cabin, our foul umbilical cord of restraint snipped, freeing me.

  Alex, it has to be now!

  Misty, where the hell are you?

  We’re leaving the motel—surely you can see me? Isn’t the rescue party ready?

  We’ve searched every motel on the Pacific coast near Florence and you’re not in any of them.

  But …

  Jonas was back. He threw the case in the boot then slid into the driver’s seat.

  ‘All set?’ he asked. He put the automatic in reverse and backed out onto the forecourt. I scanned the surroundings frantically for clues as to where we were.

  ‘When are we going to reach Florence?’ I asked.

  ‘So you know about Florence, do you? I did wonder. You’ve been too cooperative not to have tried a few things behind my back.’ He pushed the stick to drive. ‘We turned off that road a long time ago. That’s one of the traditions I didn’t mention. My brother and his family have hired a chalet in the mountains for the holiday.’

  I swore silently. I’d sent Alex to the wrong place.

  ‘I don’t see that it makes any difference to you, so no need to look so disappointed.’

  I looked out the window instead. If my face was telling him so much, I had to make it blank before I let him see my reaction to his news. There was still hope. Alex wouldn’t give up; the Benedicts were shrewd; everyone would be looking for me. Johan might think he passed undetected but he’d used a motel, a car, and a plane so there was a trace somewhere if they searched. Had to be. Oh please God, let there be.

  From the tumble of my thoughts, I knew I was close to meltdown.

  Anger welled, far more welcome than panic. Who was he to think he could merrily go round the world deleting lives and enriching himself? I weighed up the odds of surviving a crash if I grabbed the wheel. We were travelling at seventy miles an hour. Probably best to slow down before I tried anything that desperate. There was also the possibility he would be so caught up in the drama he planned with his brother that I would get my chance then.

  Stick with it, Misty. One failed rescue hope was not the end of the road.

  We climbed higher and higher in the mountains, leaving behind the coastal zone and heading into a region of logging tracks and woods. Disturbed by our engine, birds bloomed from the trees, circled and returned to roost.

  ‘Good hunting country,’ observed Johan.

  He was not alone in thinking that; the few other vehicles we passed were open-backed trucks with lockable gun boxes in the rear, Ore-gun bumper stickers, driven by men with granite faces, plaid shirts, and baseball caps. They weren’t interested in us, eyes beady with anticipation of blood sport, a hound dog’s greed in the way they glared at the road.

  We turned off the tarmac onto a crunching stretch of gravel. Looping around a cliff bottom, we came out into a highland meadow. There were some patches of snow from an earlier fall, white heaps making random erasures of ground like missing puzzle pieces. A waterfall tumbled over the steep slope of the mountain, edges silvered with icicles. A black wooden chalet with a pitched roof and yellow trim stood in fairy-tale isolation in front of the falls. A car was parked out front, mud splatters on the blue paintwork. We pulled up alongside, positioned to block in the vehicle.

  ‘This is it. Lovely, isn’t it? And you’ll just love the name: Misty Falls. Could’ve been named for this day, couldn’t it? Such a shame Roger and Miriam never wanted to share. All this could have been avoided if they’d just been better people.’ Johan sighed like a teacher opening disappointing exam results for a promising student.

  Time was running out. I had to avoid Alex’s family as they were involved in whatever it was that Tarryn had foreseen. I was getting desperate for rescue.

  But Tarryn never claimed that fate could be changed—that was why her gift was so awful.

  I told that weasel voice in my head to shut up. I wasn’t giving in.

  ‘Look, please, there’s nowhere for me to go. Why don’t you leave me in the car while you talk to your brother?’

  ‘Because, my dear Misty, your services are required inside. No ducking your destiny.’ He gave me a long look. ‘I don’t want to drag you in, so are you coming willingly?’

  Sick flutters in my chest. My body felt like it was disintegrating, buckling under the unbearable weight of fear. ‘It can’t be willing if you don’t give me a choice.’

  ‘I apologize for my imprecision. I meant are you coming without me having to force you?’

  What to do? If I resisted, he’d compel me which might mean I had even less freedom of movement.

  I got out of the car.

  I paused for a moment, breathing in the cold thin air of the mountains. Part of me knew I was going to die but the majority was screaming to resist.

  My seesaw brain changed its mind. Not even aware that my body had made the decision for me, I bolted for the nearest crop of trees, bound hands held up to my chest like I cradled something precious—hope, maybe. Thin-soled plimsolls were not ideal for mountain country; I could feel every stone under my feet. The suddenness of my race for cover had surprised Johan; running away from the waterfall, I made it to the edge of the copse, stones replaced by twigs and pine needles. There was a kind of track; my feet fell in with it naturally. The ground rose; breath sawed in my chest, ribs ached. I would run until I burst. I would outpace my fate.

  Turning a corner I almost collided with a man and a teenage boy returning down the path, firewood stacked on a sledge behind them. They were laughing, cheeks reddened, woolly hats pulled over their ears, perfect picture of a happy family. I skidded to a stop, stumbled and practically fell into the arms of the man.

  ‘Whoa!’ He was still chuckling. ‘Slow down, sweetheart. No need to panic the wildlife, hey?’

  ‘Let me go, let me go!’ I tried to free myself from his grasp. I recognized the older man’s blue eyes and the line of the jaw in the boy: this was Alex’s dad and brother.

  The man lifted his hands warily, noting my bound wrists for the first time, his alarm registering. ‘Look, now you just take a breath, honey. What’s so bad that you are tearing up the path like the devil is after you?’

  The thud of boots reached us. Johan appeared at the bend in the trail, slowing as he saw I had already been caught. I dodged round Roger and took off down the track.

  ‘Misty!’ Johan shouted. ‘If you run, I’ll kill the boy!’

  I tripped over a root and landed on my palms, scratching the path deep into my skin and chin. Rolling over and scrambling up, I glanced back. Johan had his finger aimed at the boy’s forehead, his threat immobilizing father and son.

  He’d kill us all anyway.

  I took off at a run again, stopped only by a father’s anguished cry. Looking behind, I saw the boy on the forest floor in his father’s arms.

  ‘I won’t revive him unless you get back here on the count of five! One!’

  Oh God, help me. Alex, please this is really bad. You’ve got to get here!

  ‘Two!’

  Where, Misty?

  Mountain cabin. Misty Falls. High near snow line. Your family’s holiday place.

  ‘Three!’

  I’m coming. Keep running.

  ‘Please, Miss!’ begged Roger. ‘He’s only fourteen!’

  I took a step back towards them. Can’t. I’m doing this for your brother.

  No!

  ‘Four!’

  I was back in Johan’s range, no chance to say goodbye.

  ‘You’d better hurry.’ Johan’s temper was fraying, his eyes lit by a feral gleam.

  I ran, reaching him just as he announced ‘Five.’

  He leaned over the boy and touched his cheek. Hazel eyes flickered open. Roger sobbed and clutched him to his chest. ‘Jason, Jason. Thank God. Thank you, Miss. Thank you.’

  Johan stood over the couple on
the ground and pointed to a spot at his side. ‘Stand there. You do not move unless I give you an order; understand?’

  I nodded. The short walk to his left felt like the retreat of a whipped puppy into the shadow of the master. He was itching to punish me but for the moment had other more pressing matters on his mind.

  ‘Hello, Roger. Happy holidays.’

  Roger groaned and rocked his son, pressing Jason’s face to his coat so he didn’t have to see his uncle.

  ‘Now this is what is going to happen next: you are going to walk back to your cabin with me and my little friend here and we are going to enjoy the delightful dinner Miriam is no doubt preparing. Then we are going to have a frank discussion about the past and our future.’

  ‘Please, Johan, leave Jason out of this. Let him go!’ Roger wiped tears from his cheeks; his arms were trembling.

  ‘Like you left your other son out of your life? I think not. I believe in including everyone in the family celebrations.’

  Roger got shakily to his feet and helped his son stand. Jason was taller than me, though a little younger. He must have been warned about his uncle because he moved to the far side of his father.

  ‘No, no, Jason. Come walk with me, your uncle Johan.’ Johan was shifting on his feet, a prize-fighter eagerly warming up for a championship bout. ‘Your father will pay much more attention to my wishes that way. I wouldn’t want you to get any wild ideas of escape like Misty here. Look where that got her. I hope you appreciate the irony of her name. Which reminds me.’ Johan struck suddenly, viciously, backhanding me. I ended up on the ground. My right cheek stung; my lip felt fat where it had mashed against my teeth.

  ‘Johan!’ exclaimed Roger. He moved to restrain his brother then backed off, afraid to make contact with him.

  Someone knelt beside me and touched my face gently. I looked up to see Jason crouched over me. It was oddly comforting to be helped to my feet by this younger, darker version of Alex. The hazel eyes were different but Alex’s features were echoed in the fourteen-year-old’s face, softer, rounded but still family.

  ‘Don’t sound so shocked, Roger,’ said Johan. ‘She deserved it. It’s no more than dear old father did to me while you looked on and never protested.’

  Roger bit his lip and looked away, face grim. ‘You had to be disciplined but the demon consumed you anyway.’

  ‘And maybe you’d be less concerned about the girl if you knew she is one of the demon spawn too?’

  ‘Step away from her, Jason.’ Roger reached out for his son.

  ‘Pa, she’s just another kid. Her lip’s bleeding.’

  ‘She’s one of them.’ Roger beckoned, empty fingers scratching the air.

  ‘I see there’s hope for your son.’ Johan nodded his approval. ‘Yes, you stand by Misty, Jason. That’s what your father failed to do for me and for your brother, Alex.’

  ‘What brother?’ Jason’s eyes flicked to Roger.

  ‘Oh, how interesting. You don’t know? Well, nephew, you have an older brother, a fine young man by the name of Alex. He and Misty are, how do you say, close? Very close.’

  Roger knew what he was referring to even if Jason had no idea. ‘Is that why she’s here? She’s his soulfinder and you want to throw her in my face?’

  ‘Ah, if only it were that simple. Come, I’m getting cold. Let’s go back and introduce the most important member of this affecting family scene into the mix.’ His pointing towards the cabin was both threat and urging. We all knew what that finger could do.

  Jason took my hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘You OK, Misty?’

  I tried to smile my thanks but tears came instead, my face a war zone of emotions. ‘Not really.’

  Johan took Jason’s elbow and led him down the path, chatting happily about the beauty of the trees, the falls, the silence of the mountains after city living, a parody of family chitchat. Roger and I followed, me limping, but Roger did not offer an arm to assist.

  ‘What do you do?’ he whispered.

  Perhaps he was hoping for some superpower that would allow me to take out Johan single-handed—as if I wouldn’t have done that already.

  ‘I tell the truth.’

  He hissed, condemning me as useless. ‘If you harm my son—or my wife—I’m coming after you. I won’t rest until you pay.’

  Hadn’t he noticed that I was a victim just as much as he? ‘I’m not your enemy here.’

  ‘You all are.’ He increased his pace to catch up with his son, taking a protective stance on his other side.

  I let my steps lag, hoping Johan wouldn’t notice.

  Alex, you’d better get here quickly. It’s really bad.

  Misty? Tell me what’s happening.

  Johan has your dad and brother. I think he’s going to mur … I couldn’t say it, get rid of some or all of us.

  I won’t let him. Alex did feel closer, his voice more definite in my head. Look, Misty, I haven’t had a chance to tell you but Johan contacted me earlier this morning after you left the inn. He guessed you were communicating with me from something you said or did and he wasn’t surprised we’d tracked you to America; he knows what our friends can do. He doesn’t want them there though so I’m coming alone. Stay away from everyone if you can.

  No, please. You need backup. I don’t think you can stop him. I only wanted Alex here if he had a team with him.

  Delay—keep him talking—spin it out.

  What do you think I’ve been doing ever since he took me? I sounded a bit hysterical even to myself.

  Sorry. You’re doing really well. You’ve been so brave.

  Johan turned at the steps up to the cabin, noting that I had fallen behind. I let him see my limp and continued slowly towards him. About five more paces and I’d be out of contact again.

  If you can’t stop him, please know I don’t blame you.

  I will stop him. I’ve been given this gift of persuasion for a reason—for you. I could hear the steely determination beneath the words.

  I was out of time. You never needed it to persuade me to love you.

  I could feel his pleasure at my words tingle down our line of communication.

  I love you too. That’s the truth.

  The next limp closer to Johan cut him off.

  ‘Hurry up, Misty, our hostess is waiting. You’ll be able to chat to Alex later—yes, of course I know what you’re doing. Roger, help Misty up the steps.’

  Reluctantly Roger steadied me as I ascended the stairs. ‘Johan, is it necessary to keep her hands bound?’

  ‘Necessary? Maybe, maybe not. But I am learning not to take Misty for granted, Roger; I suggest you do the same. There is more to her than meets the eye.’

  Roger let go of my elbow. Johan shark-smiled and pushed open the door.

  ‘Hi, honey, we’re home!’ he trilled, towing Jason over the threshold. Their feet left muddy tracks on the wooden floor as Johan ignored the mat and boot room. The hallway smelt of roast turkey, transporting me back to my own parents’ house and our family Christmases. I felt horribly homesick, just wanting my mum to hug me, my dad to stand between me and this man.

  There was a scream from the kitchen and the sound of a plate smashing. Miriam had spotted their unexpected guest.

  ‘Hello, Miriam, you look beautiful as ever.’ Johan sounded gleeful.

  I followed the voices into the kitchen. Miriam was standing by the sink in the last stages of preparing the meal. The turkey was already out, sitting on the wooden table, crisp caramel skin. Three places had been laid. Green beans sat in a casserole dish next to creamed potatoes. Two plates remained in her hands, one lay in shards on the floor. A tall woman with a little weight on her hips, Miriam had the air of a competent cook, apron snugly tied, surfaces neat and cleaned between stages. Her long dark hair was caught back in a ponytail; her wide eyes were hazel like her younger son’s.

  Johan took command.

  ‘Hmm-hmm—that smells good. Please do sit down and I’ll carve. Jason, get another three plates
out please; I’m sure you know where they are kept.’

  Miriam collapsed onto the nearest chair. ‘Roger?’ she said weakly.

  Roger rubbed his face. ‘Let’s just … just do what he says.’

  ‘Dear brother, if you don’t mind.’ Johan held up a plastic tie. ‘Hands behind your back.’

  Roger hesitated.

  ‘Either that or I repeat my touch on Jason with no guarantee I’ll bring him back.’

  Roger put his wrists together. Johan secured him, pulling the binding tighter than needed.

  ‘Miriam? If you would be so kind.’

  Glancing once at her husband, Miriam let him bind her wrists. She couldn’t stop her shudder when he brushed an affectionate hand across her neck.

  ‘Don’t touch my mom!’ said Jason, thumping three more plates on the table.

  ‘And last but not least, our brave Jason.’ Johan jiggled the tie tauntingly.

  ‘P … pa?’

  ‘Just do what he says,’ Roger whispered. He sounded defeated. ‘He’s got something he wants us to hear so let’s give him his chance. Then you let us go, right, Johan?’

  ‘I suppose you could see it like that,’ mused Johan, tying Jason so his hands were in front of him like mine. He prodded him to take the third seat then brought a chair over for me. Once we were all seated, he took his place at the head of the table. ‘For what we are about to receive … ’

  ‘Don’t you dare blaspheme!’ hissed Roger, looking as if he was going to head-butt him from his position at Johan’s left.

  Johan quirked a brow. ‘I suppose it is a little much from me. I never had much time for fathers, heavenly or earthly, did I?’ He stuck the carving fork deep in the breast. Clear juices ran out. ‘Done to a turn, Miriam. Perfect.’ He smiled at the unappreciative cook sitting on his right. Johan carved a slice, white gash against orange-gold skin. With sickening care, he served us all, piling our plates with food none of us could eat. ‘I hope you didn’t use any of that pre-prepared stuff Americans are so fond of?’ He took a wary mouthful of potato. ‘No, made from scratch. I applaud you, Miriam.’

  The woman’s eyes were skittering from her son, to husband, briefly to me, then back to Johan. ‘Why are you here, Johan?’