by Nely Cab
David set the notebook down. His mouth pulled to one side as he stared at me.
“Isis,” he said. “We can’t exactly be picky. Our choices are limited. And although Dr. Gunn and Eileen are well versed—”
“Can we not talk about this right now? It’s making my stomach turn. Besides, it’s time for your therapy. Let’s focus on you, okay?”
“Fine,” he said. “Therapy is in session.”
David stood from the bed without difficulty, walked to the door, and locked it. I spread the yoga mat on the floor for him and sat down next to it on a cushion. David kneeled on the mat. He gazed at me for a moment, then reached for the bun in my hair and set it loose. Using the tips of his fingers, he brushed a strand of hair aside and kissed my neck. Goose bumps sprouted on my skin by the thousands.
“Um… D-David, that’s not part of the exercise schedule,” I said.
“We’re trying something different today.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I do.” He slid his hand up the back of my shirt. I felt my bra loosen, and his hand traveled leisurely to my chest. His lips felt hot on mine, his tongue hotter. “I’ve missed you.”
“So have I,” I said. “But I’m not sure now is a good time for this. What if they hear us?”
“We’ll be quiet.” He bit my neck, and I squealed. “Shhh.”
“David, you’re in no condition to—”
He kissed me deep.
“And my stomach is—”
He kissed me again.
“If you don’t stop…” My breathing became labored.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. I considered the question for but a second. I shook my head. He pulled my shirt over my head. My bra slid down my arms, and he flung it to the side. He studied me, running his fingers along my skin, tracing the curves of my upper body. “Your skin’s so soft,” he said. “I know I say it far too much, but you’re beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
“Lucky, after what you’ve been through?”
“It’s a matter of perspective, love.”
David lay back on the pad, pulling me over him as he did. With a sudden but careful movement, he rolled me onto the mat. I landed on my side, my back to his chest. His tongue trailed a warm, damp path from the back of my neck to my ear. I felt his excitement stirring against me through the thin fabric of my pajama pants. I reached behind me, touching him, and he let out a soft groan into my hair.
“Shh…” I said.
His hand slipped beneath the front elastic of my underwear. He lingered at my hip, running the tips of his fingers at an angle. My breath quickened. Slowly, his hand moved down, then lower still, finding the aim of his intention between my thighs. I gasped audibly and bit my lip.
“Shh…” He spoke against my cheek, letting out short, ragged breaths.
I felt the speed at which his chest inflated and deflated, like mine. His hand moved to my rear, as he pressed long, urgent kisses on my lips. With one tug, my pajama pants and underwear glided down past my thighs. He drew me back against his hips, and my heart pounded in my chest, a furious craving rising inside me. His breath landed hot on the crook of my neck as our bodies molded flawlessly into one another. While David held me, I forgot about the qualms and anxieties present in our lives. We floated high above everything and everyone in existence. There was no past or present or future; there was only us. This—our love for each other—was the most sacred of things my heart had ever known. And I was willing to do whatever it took to preserve it.
***
Sunlight still filled the sky when Claire arrived with two massive bags of fresh Mexican sweet bread she’d picked up at one of the family-owned bakeries in town. Eryx helped her carry them in. The scents of warm sugar, cinnamon, and anise filled the air as he crossed the foyer to the dining area.
After a few minutes of polite pleasantries among the older adults, we followed Dr. Gunn into the den where the equipment had been set up. I noted the glances exchanged between Claire and Samuel. Their attraction to one another troubled me. Under different circumstances, I would’ve let them be, been happy for my mom and maybe even for Samuel. But Samuel was a deity and Claire a mortal—a recipe for disaster, for which I was the perfect example.
I lay on the sofa and Gunn coated my stomach with a blue, gel-like substance. Samuel was at his side, pressing buttons and turning knobs on the large machine. Gunn swiveled the monitor so everyone had a clear view of the screen, including him and me. Samuel placed a chair next to the sofa, by my head.
“David,” Samuel said. “You sit here.”
“Are we ready?” Gunn asked, glancing at everyone, and finally at me. I nodded. “Alright, then. Let’s get this show on the road.” He slid the convex-shaped wand over my belly. A mirage of shapes appeared on the screen, none I could discern. His hand angled and pressed against my skin until a tiny hand appeared on the screen; next to it, a tiny face came into focus.
“That looks like a normal human baby to me.” Gunn nodded, then realized what he’d said. He blinked in Claire’s direction. Every eye in the room gauged Claire’s reaction, but she seemed unfazed by the comment. I let out the breath I was holding when she smiled at me. I smiled back. “Because, why wouldn’t it be, right?” The doctor quickly focused back at the monitor. “Let’s see what you’ve got cooking in there.” He applied heavier pressure on my belly. “And there it is. Samuel, do you see that?”
“I do,” Samuel said.
“Would you do us the honor, Granddad?” Gunn asked Samuel. “Tell us what you see.”
“I see,” Samuel looked at David and me, “a very perfect baby girl.”
“Yes!” Galilea cheered.
“We’re having a daughter.” David kissed my head. “How do you feel about that?”
“Happy.” I smiled, but I wanted to cry, though I didn’t know why. Seeing a tiny formed body inside me may have been the wakeup call I needed, the single moment confirming this was my life, and it was real. I felt like a thirty-year-old, instead of a college-aged kid. Though, college wasn’t out of the question, I wouldn’t live the college experience my friends raved about: choosing and changing a major, partying until late hours, living in a dorm. The full blow of responsibility for the life I was carrying in my belly now hit me—hit me hard. Maybe the scramble of emotions I was experiencing were what made me feel weepy. Or maybe it was the excessive amounts of pregnancy hormones. I felt joyous and sad and scared and excited, all at once. The concepts of devotion and unconditional love were truly grasped and understood by me. Thoughts about the type of mother I wanted to be ran laps around my head. Then, in a swift instant, those thoughts and emotions evaporated. In their place roused a strong instinct of survival. A tidal wave of adrenaline doused me from head to toe as I saw a dark cloud appear behind Claire. Almost instantly, the silhouette of a Turpis took shape.
Eryx was the first to note the panic on my face. He followed my fixed gaze to the Turpis, which had formed into a solid, carbonized figure. Baring yellow fangs, the demon reached a clawed hand out to Claire. A scream caught in my throat. Eryx pulled Claire with a brusque tug out of the demon’s way. She crashed into Alezzander’s chest, who, in turn, flung her like a rag doll in the direction of Eileen and Nyx. I leapt from the sofa in an attempt to run to my mother’s side, to protect her, to keep her from being singed by the fiend of hell. But the extra weight of the pregnancy made me slow, and Galilea blocked my way as well as my view of Claire. Before I could protest, David hooked his arm around my chest, his hand pressed over my mouth as he dragged me away from the rabid snarls of the Turpis waging war against the men in the room.
In the hallway, Galilea widened her eyes at David and me as she lifted a finger to her lips. I nodded, and David removed his hand from my mouth.
Galilea leaned into David and me and whispered, “They can’t see you, but they know you’re here. We’ve got to get you out of the house.”
“But my mom…” I whispe
red back. Galilea shushed me.
From the study came the sound of crashes and shattering glass, followed by a woman’s scream. Was it Claire’s? I tensed. Galilea took a step toward the den’s doorway, but David caught her shoulder, pushing her back and hurtling past her toward the study.
“David, no!” Galilea called after him, but it was too late. David had already entered the study. A few seconds later, Claire slid out across the foyer’s wood flooring, her back crashing against the foot of the banister. Her face was alabaster in color, her eyes so wide I thought they’d pop out of their sockets. I ran to her side and helped her up, determined to lead her out of conflict’s way. But she wouldn’t budge. She stared at me with bewilderment. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I startled. I was relieved when I saw it was David who’d returned from the study.
“It’s okay,” David said to Claire. “Isis’s eyes do that sometimes.”
Oh no. I didn’t want her to see me like this. I looked down at the floor, away from Claire. I was going to have to tell her the truth. But later. At the moment, what I wanted was to get her out of there.
Just then, Dr. Gunn and Eileen crawled out of the den. Nyx appeared behind them, running away from the commotion in the room. She tripped over Gunn’s foot and landed on her hands and knees on the floor. David helped his mother up. Meanwhile, Gunn helped Eileen sit against the wall, tending to the bloody trickle flowing from two parallel gashes on Eileen’s rosy cheek. Dr. Gunn’s nose was as bloody as his wife’s face. The scent of blood roused the craving in me, and my mouth watered. I licked my lips. No! I closed my eyes and held my breath for moment.
“Claire,” Galilea said, and my eyes sprang open. “We’re getting out of here. But you have to listen very carefully to me.” Claire didn’t blink. “When I say run, you run and fast. You don’t wait for any of us. Not even for Isis. She’ll be fine with me. But if you don’t listen to my instructions, that thing in the other room will come after her. You have to stay away from her for now. Pretend she’s not here. Okay?” Claire was like a statue, unblinking and stiff. Her panicked eyes focused on me and solely me.
“Mom, you have to listen to Galilea,” I whispered. She didn’t respond. “Mom?” I snapped my fingers at her, but nothing. I turned to Galilea. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s in shock,” Dr. Gunn said from the wall.
“I know how to fix her,” Galilea said. “I’m sorry about this, Claire.” The snap of Galilea’s hand on my mother’s cheek made me wince.
Claire blinked, stunned by the blow.
“Did you hear what I said?” Galilea asked her. Claire shook her head. “Follow my instructions. Run when I say run. Wait for no one.”
“I… Ok.” Claire nodded and trembled at the same time. “What is that thing in there?” Claire asked, reaching for my eyes. “And your eyes are—”
Before Claire could finish her thought, pieces of the den wall shot past us. The Turpis crumpled a few feet away, shrieking. A dagger gleamed out of its side beneath its left arm, black secretion tainting the floorboards. David stepped in front of me. He kicked the demon in the face as it tried to regain its posture. Eryx jumped over the creature and sank his blade into the demon’s eye. The Turpis writhed on the floor, and the room seemed to dim for a second or two. Swarms of flying insects emerged out of thin air in the foyer. They flocked together and from them, the shape of three Turpis began to materialize in the foyer.
“Run!” Samuel screamed at me.
Galilea jerked my arm, leading me away from the scene. We passed the kitchen and exited through the side door of the enclosed patio. As I darted across the backyard, I looked over my shoulder. The doctors and Claire weren’t far behind. I expected to see Nyx, but she wasn’t with us. Neither was David. I slowed my pace and backpedaled toward the house.
“Isis, no!” Galilea ran after me. “Don’t even think about it.” She all but tackled me in the middle of the yard, and then dragged me in the opposite direction.
“Galilea…” I protested. “David can’t stay in there. He’s not fully healed.”
“He’ll be fine. We’re not going back. Or do you not care about your unborn child?” She waited for my reaction. “That’s what I thought.”
Galilea and I caught up to the others at the edge of the forest where they stood stiff and silent beneath the tree shadows.
“Don’t just stand there. Run,” she ordered.
Branches and leaves licked my skin as I struggled to make my way and keep pace with her. A short distance into the trek, my lungs were on fire. My throat was dry and my back felt like it was about to give out. I started to slow down. Galilea took my arm, trying to help me maintain her stride. But with the extra weight I was carrying, it was impossible.
“I can’t,” I said hoarsely. “I can’t,” I breathed heavily, “run anymore.”
“Gah!” Galilea huffed. “Everyone, stop,” she said. Dr. Gunn, Eileen, and Claire walked back to us. “We have to split up. You three,” Galilea said to Claire and the doctors, “go that way.” Her finger twitched to the west. “There’s a truck in a clearing right off the freeway. The keys are under the seat. Claire, you know your way around the back roads, yeah?” Claire nodded. “Head down Old Military Highway and find the abandoned Lomita chapel. Lock yourselves in until we come get you.”
“Isis should come with us,” Claire said. “I’m not leaving her here with those…”
“Demons. They’re demons,” Galilea said, and Claire’s eyes broadened. “You’ve got burn marks on your arms,” Galilea said to her. “Notice how Isis doesn’t have a scratch on her? You should worry about yourself.”
Claire looked at Galilea with a dozen questions in her eyes.
“Mom, we’ll be okay,” I said, before she could ask anything. “Just don’t stop until you reach the place Galilea’s talking about.”
“But—” Claire hesitated.
“But nothing!” Galilea snapped. “Go.”
The doctors and Claire turned and walked away. Claire looked back over her shoulder at me, apprehension wilting her stare.
“Is that what you call running?” Galilea let out an annoyed huff. She turned to look at me. “Now I know where you get your pigheadedness.”
We watched the doctors and Claire run deeper into the woods.
“Will they be okay on their own?” I asked. Galilea didn’t answer, which worried me. She walked in the opposite direction she’d sent the adults. I followed. “How do you know there’s a truck at the clearing near the freeway?”
“I put it there.”
“Why?” I struggled to keep up with her pace.
“Reasons. Keep walking.”
“Where are we going?”
“That way.”
“Why?” I panted. “What’s that way?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“Galilea, wait.” I stopped to breathe. “Why did you send the doctors and my mom to that chapel?”
“Reasons. Walk.”
“Are you angry with me or something?”
“No.” She tugged at my arm and pulled me along. “Keep up.”
“I’m trying to. When can we go back to the house? I want to make sure everyone’s all right. We shouldn’t have left David behind.”
Galilea stopped and glared at me. “Are you aware we’re trying to hide from Turpis?”
“Yes.”
“And are you also aware that you can’t be seen, but you can be heard?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you still talking?”
Point taken.
***
The forest grew darker, as did the sky. A blanket of fog hugged the earth’s floor as we continued, old trees our silent, observant companions. The autumn night breeze bit my back, and I shivered. Keeping my thoughts to myself, I wondered if Claire and the doctors had made it safely to their destination. I wondered what was happening at the estate. Maybe I shouldn’t have listened to Galilea. Maybe I should’ve gone ba
ck for David. How much longer did we have to go before I could voice all these worries to Galilea? Then I remembered I’d once read the Ebony Estate was situated on eighty-two acres of land. I hoped she wasn’t thinking of hiking the entire span of it.
As we walked, the trees became scarcer. At last, we were at the edge of the forest on a dirt road, an expansive field of indiscernible crops in the dim light of the moon opposite us. I glanced at Galilea, raising my brows to convey the mute question in my mind: Now what? She jerked her head and waved her hand, heralding me to follow.
“It’s not much further,” Galilea said in a whisper. “Still not safe to talk.”
I grunted.
Galilea’s notion of “not much further” was walking the length of five football fields. At last, she stopped in front of a tiny old shack, hesitating for a moment before approaching the door and opening it. Nothing other than pitch black could be seen inside the one-room shed. Galilea went in, while I waited at the door. A clicking noise came from somewhere in the room. A few yards away, floating orange sparks appeared in the blackness, suddenly sprouting into a small flame. Galilea’s face glowed by the side of the ignited lighter.
“Close the door,” she said. “You can sit there.” She moved the lighter away from her body and the flame’s glow cast over a dirty, turned-over bucket. “There’s a candle in here somewhere,” she said, as I lowered myself to sit. “Can you see it anywhere?”
“No. I’m allowed to talk now?”
“Yeah, but it keep it short—and whisper.”
“Galilea, when are we going back to the others?” I said softly. “And why are we here?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? We’re going to go get them. I just need to find a candle first.”
I stood from the grimy bucket I was sitting on and walked over to her. As Galilea walked around the room spreading the flame’s light, I saw what the interior of the shed held: a wooden crate with glass bottles and trash on it, a rusted shovel, empty burlap sacks, a mess of scattered, rusted tools, and more trash.