by W. J. May
She made it well enough down the stairs, only slipping twice, before collapsing in an exhausted pile at the bottom. With a vicious glare, she glanced down at her cast.
You’re never going to get the drop on anyone wearing that thing…
With her window of escape shrinking by the second, Rae desperately looked around. Trying to find anything she could use to possibly get the thing off. Again and again, she came up blank. The knives in the kitchen were too far away—and this sort of plaster could withstand their culinary blades anyway. Doctors usually had to remove them with an electric saw. It would take an extraordinary amount of force to force it free…
Her eyes dropped to the bag hanging by her side. She took out the gun.
Just eight bullets inside. Good thing her little nemesis only required one. That left seven shots to strategically blast this thing off before Devon got back and hauled her off to the psychiatric ward. At this point, she wouldn’t really blame him.
Without stopping to think she stretched her leg out in front of her, took a split second to gauge the angle, then fired off five shots in rapid succession. Then two more.
With any luck, his neighbors will think I’m watching an extra-violent movie.
There was a muffled sort of crumbling sound then the thing split up the middle, exposing the pale, bruised leg inside. She lifted it out as carefully as she could, biting down on her lip to stop the scream of pain that followed. A quick test proved that she was able to put next to no weight on it, but it wasn’t exactly broken. Just a hairline fracture. That meant walking was technically possible.
I just have to fight through the pain if I want to…
“What the hell are you doing?”
Rae looked up to see Devon standing in the door.
He was holding the groceries. She was holding the gun.
His eyes locked on the weapon immediately, making the slow journey from her exposed leg to the strategically broken plaster crumbled at her side. They widened in alarm for a second before gazing up at her with a blank sort of shock.
“…Rae?”
She froze. Every single inch of her froze. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak.
Except, she knew she had to keep going.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, taking her first halting step towards the door. The pain that followed was excruciating. “Devon, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even register that she’d spoken. He just kept his eyes trained on the gun. Finally, when he looked up, it was like he’d never seen her before.
“Rae,” he spoke slowly, carefully, as if he could stop whatever was about to happen just by willing it away, “what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. But for now, I have to go—”
“You’re not going anywhere; you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on!” he yelled.
The groceries fell out of his arms, dropping in a pile on the floor. Somewhere inside glass shattered, oozing a red sauce over the hardwood floor. He stepped over it. “Do you know what it took for me to come back here after that night?” His voice had gone dangerously quiet, and there was a fire burning in his eyes. “Do you know how stupid it was for me to have let you stay in this house? After what you said? After what you claimed?”
Rae’s chest tightened, and she pulled in a shaky breath.
Yes, he had gone out on a massive limb for her. Forsaking everyone he knew for a stranger, time and time again. And yes…she was breaking that trust now. She was shattering it to pieces.
“You fought for me,” she answered, just as quietly. “I understand that. But now…” She steeled her nerves and slowly lifted her chin. “Now I have to fight for you.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Fight for me,” he echoed. His forehead creased in a frown as he tried to understand. Twice more his eyes flickered to the gun, coming up blank. “What do you…”
Then all at once, it clicked.
“Samantha.”
He said the name with derision. As if the word itself was standing in between them, waving a giant red flag. Sarcasm dripped down the sides of it, and he slowly shook his head.
Looking hurt. Looking disappointed.
“Wouldn’t you do it for me?” Rae insisted. “Wouldn’t you fight for—”
“SHE’S NOT REAL!”
Every inch of his body shook as he stared her down. Panting as if he’d run all the way back from the store. Pale as a sheet.
“It’s in your head, Rae! ALL of it is in your head!”
Her temper rose, temporarily blinding her from the pain shooting up her leg. “Then what was last night?!” she demanded. “What was that to you?!”
He took a sudden step forward, dripping head to toe from the rain. “Last night was real. Everything that’s ever happened between us has been real,” he said fiercely. “Things that I remember. Things that you remember. Starting from that day on the hill.”
“But not before.” Her heart shattered into a million pieces. One look at his face told her the obvious answer to that question. No, not before. She only existed for him from the moment he woke up after the fire. “I’ve got to go.”
He didn’t even try to stop her. Didn’t do a single thing to keep her from walking out that door. He simply stood there, in a daze, and watched it happen.
In the end, it was Rae who turned around at the end of the walk. “Why did you ask me to tell you our story, if it isn’t real?”
A look of true heartbreak came over his face. One so hopeless and utterly defeated it looked as though he would never smile again. “…Because I wish it was.”
* * *
The train pulled out of the station on time. Considering how painfully long it had taken her to get to the station, Rae was surprised she’d even gotten a seat.
She sat with her face pressed up against the window, staring drearily out into the rain.
It felt like only yesterday she had been on a similar train. Leaving London and heading south. A train that deposited her at a bus, that deposited her at the gates of a new school. An impressively scary-looking place that would go on to shape the rest of her life. A place that would teach her about magic, and test the limits of what she was capable of. A place where she would learn, and grow, and eventually discover who she was. The things she’d fight for. The people who would be there fighting by her side.
Today, she was leaving London and heading east. To a little country village just south of Oxford. A place that held no answers, just a million dark uncertainties. And one fleeting chance.
A chance to save the life she’d started when she stepped off that first train. A chance to live the life she’d always fought for. To reclaim the person she’d fought to become.
The train pulled into the station not long after, leaving her standing alone in a misty little town. Not a single person was on the streets, although the sun had yet to vanish over the horizon, and despite being only five in the afternoon almost every single shop had already closed its doors.
Rae cautiously ventured forward. Hobbling painfully on her throbbing leg. Feeling as though eyes were following her from behind every shutter. From the slits in every curtain.
“42 South Whitaker Street,” she muttered, limping slowly down the middle of the road.
There wasn’t a single car in sight; the traffic-lights were frozen on red. She didn’t know whether to be creeped out or relieved, but settled on being a little of both. Best case scenario: there wouldn’t be any witnesses to what was about to happen. Worst case scenario: zombie apocalypse.
It didn’t take long to find Whitaker. There were only about seven streets in the entire town. Still going along on foot, Rae walked past house after house. Each one identical to the next.
Until…she got to the end of the block.
Even without the address scribbled on her hand, Rae would have known she’d come to the right spot. She would have sensed it th
e moment she laid eyes on the house.
Or what was left of the house.
While the rest of the homes on the block were in fine standing, this one had fallen into deep disrepair. Not structurally so much as all those things around the edges.
The paint was peeling. The grass was completely overgrown. Several tiles had fallen from the roof, and still lay in jagged pieces on the ground.
It looked nothing like the house from Rae’s vision. The house that had been almost clinically clean. Every item in its rightful place. Every appliance in perfect working order.
The front door was not only unlocked, but was hanging slightly ajar. The lights inside were off, and Rae cautiously ventured in, one hand in front of her, one hand gripping the gun.
At first, she thought no one was home.
The place was freezing. Even though it was in the middle of winter, every window was thrown wide open. There were mildewed puddles on the floor where the rainwater had soaked through the carpet and taken seed. The kitchen was empty.
Then she saw it. A light at the end of the hall.
She slowly walked towards it, her knee buckling with every step. There was something vaguely familiar about the door, but it wasn’t until she pushed it open that she realized why.
This was Elias’ study. And it was exactly how he’d left it.
Right down to the giant bloodstain on the floor.
Rae’s stomach instantly soured as she fell back against the door. Not a thing had changed in over ten years. Not a single bloody thing.
It was like stepping back in time. Unlike the rest of the house, this place had been perfectly preserved. No dust. No decay. A little heater had even been placed in the corner so it wasn’t freezing like everywhere else.
It looked exactly as it did that day in her vision. Even had the same muddy handprints on the knob from young Samantha’s excited entrance. There were still grooves in the carpet from Elias’ years of blankly staring out the window. She half-expected for the chair to turn around and to see him there now. Present, but not present at the same time. That sad little smile painting his handsome face as he helplessly stared back at his daughter.
Trapped in the past. Unwilling to face the future.
With a compulsion she couldn’t ignore Rae walked forward and ran her fingers along the top of the chair. It was still warm. As if someone had been sitting in it just moments before.
That’s when she heard it. The same sound she’d heard in her vision all those years ago.
The sound of Samantha in the backyard.
The purse came off. The gun came out. And Rae flitted silently back down the hallway. A second later, she pushed open the back door and took her first steps outside.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you found me,” Samantha mumbled. She was sitting on the edge of the grass, up to her ankles in mud. “You always were resourceful.”
Rae cautiously continued forward, keeping the gun trained on the center of her chest. “Did you want me to find you?” she asked quietly. “Did you want me to see this?”
Samantha looked up with a baffling expression. Half-defiant, half-sullen at the same time. “I wanted that taxi to kill you in the street.”
Rae nodded curtly, and her hand tightened on the gun. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Samantha seemed to notice the weapon for the first time. Her head cocked to the side, and she slowly pushed to her feet, wiping her muddy hands on her pants. “Is that why you came? You came here to kill me?”
Rae froze where she stood, squaring her feet firmly on the grass. “You haven’t left me many options…” she took a deep breath, “…but no. I don’t want to kill you. I won’t unless you leave me with no other choice.”
A taunting grin flashed across Samantha’s face. “And what are my other choices?”
Rae stared at her calmly. Unwilling to get sucked into childish games. Unwilling to take her eyes off the target. “Undo what you did. Confess. Surrender yourself to the will of the Council.”
A high-pitched giggle rang out in the air. “Oh, is that all?”
“You’ll get life in prison,” Rae replied unfeelingly. “You’ll be locked away in a room where you can never use your tatù again. But you’ll be alive.”
Samantha took a step forward, distractedly flexing her fingers in the air. A look of fierce rebellion was painted across her face, but there was genuine fear there as well. “And if I don’t?”
Rae cocked the gun. “Then I put a bullet in your brain.”
For a minute, neither one of them moved. They simply stood there. Staring each other down. Measuring each other’s resistance.
Then a slow smile began working its way up Samantha’s face. “I have a third option for you.”
Rae gritted her teeth, unwilling to play for even a second longer. “And what’s that?”
At that very moment, Devon stepped into the backyard.
No!
Samantha’s eyes lit up in triumph.
“You die.”
Before Rae could do a thing, before her finger could even tighten on the trigger, the gun went flying from her hand. The last bullet went off, burying itself with a dull thud in a nearby tree.
A second after that, she was on the ground, staring up into her fiancé’s eyes. “Devon,” she whispered as his hand wrapped slowly around her throat, “it’s me. Me.”
How can we be here again? After all that we’ve been through, after all that we’ve grown? How can we be back in exactly the same place that we started?
His face was blank, and his eyes were glassed over. Exactly the way they had been that day at Guilder. The day he’d taken a knife and plunged it into her chest.
“Sweetheart, please fight this.” Her hands closed over his wrists, but she knew that it was no use. He was stronger than she was. And he had no hesitation. “This can’t just be it for us. Do you hear me? This can’t be the end of our story.”
A smirking reddish-brunette floated intrusively into her line of sight. Positioning herself just over Devon’s shoulder. A shoulder she lay a tiny hand on, with an accompanying smirk. “She’s right, Devon. This can’t be how the great Rae Kerrigan ends.”
All at once, his hands left her throat. As Rae coughed for air and to try and release the pressure from the bruises probably already forming from Devon’s hands, he straightened up and stood calmly by Samantha’s side. Together, the two of them gazed down at her. One, with a look of cold triumph. The other, without an ounce of emotion at all.
“I think we should make her feel it a little.”
The next second, Rae was flying back through the air. She hit the ground with an anguished shriek as her leg crumpled beneath her. The other kept her standing. Just. But it was only a matter of time before it gave out as well. In the meantime, Devon was on the warpath.
“Dev,” she tried to reason with him, “don’t—”
She ducked out the way as he reached for her again, flipping cleverly to the side only to be knocked back down with a punch to the face. A host of stars exploded before her eyes, and for a moment she just lay there. Stunned senseless.
It was hard enough fighting Devon with powers. It was hard enough fighting him without a broken leg. How the hell was she supposed to do both?
You’re not. You’re not going to fight him at all. Not for Samantha. Not for anything.
She quickly rolled out of the way, leaping to her feet as his boot made a crater where her head had been just moments before. No sooner did she have time to straighten up than she was flying through the air again, hitting the wall of the house with a sickening crack.
“Oh, this is terrible. I totally forgot!” Samantha had been watching the whole thing, the way a kid watched a particularly gory movie, glued to the screen. “Your leg! I think I broke it back at the diner, then you got hit by that car. You must be in really bad shape!”
Rae didn’t answer. She was too busy trying to catch her breath. Her fiancé was coming towards her once again, and
for the life of her she didn’t know how she was going to stop him.
If you can’t stop the puppet, cut the strings.
With a vicious cry, Rae took her eyes off Devon and flew towards Samantha instead. Her leg didn’t have a single ounce of strength left in it, but she didn’t need it to work for long. After just a few paces, she leapt high into the air and came down with a spinning kick, aiming her pointed boot right at the side of Samantha’s head.
Except…she never made contact.
Devon flew out of nowhere. Moving so fast she couldn’t even see. Just a blur of colors, a rush of air, then she was knocked out of the air with the force of a small meteor.
This time, when she hit the ground she didn’t get back up.
“Is that all, Rae Kerrigan?” Samantha’s voice quietly echoed in her mind, sounding remarkably subdued. “Have you had enough?”
A rush of pain shot through her body, and Rae slowly opened her eyes.
The world was a bit dimmer than when she’d last seen it. The colors were darker. The edges had begun to blur. She’d been here before. Several times, in fact. But this time felt different.
Samantha had said it well.
It felt like an end.
Whatever it was she was feeling must have shown in her face, because a second later Devon was kneeling on top of her once more. This time he didn’t reach for her throat. He placed his hands on either side of her head.
He’s going to snap my neck, she thought with a shiver.
Cold, impersonal, deadly efficient. She’d seen him do it before. She knew there wasn’t any pain. In a way, it really wasn’t a bad way to go. And as strange as it sounded, she’d be with Devon the whole time. Even if he wasn’t really there.
“Just do it.” Her entire body had gone very still as she gazed up into his eyes. A few tears slipped out, but she still managed to smile. “I don’t want to live without you.”
His hands tightened, then paused. A strange look flitted across his face as he, too, found himself suddenly unable to move. The wind picked up and stirred around them, and without seeming to think about it he stroked a stray lock of hair away from her face.