“They’re nice,” I countered. “Nicer than you.”
“You should stay away from them.”
“See, that’s the thing.” I wobbled a bit and tried to stabilize myself by hugging the staircase. “They told me you’d say that.”
He crossed his arms. “Rachel Ann was worried sick about you.”
“Was she?” I laughed. “That’s nice. I suppose she stayed up late for me? Ooooh Enrique my love I wonder where that stupid boy is I would hate to step on his corpse on the way to powder my nose—”
I didn’t get the chance to finish. Enrique walked up to me and gave me a solid punch to the face. Stars exploded. I rolled over to the ground, to that smooth and blessedly cold marble floor, and tasted my own blood.
He stood over me. I waited a couple of seconds and then pushed myself up. He punched me again.
“Fuck,” I said. I managed to turn the right way and grabbed him by the foot.
He hadn’t expected that. I guess he thought I’d just stand again, like a proper man would. Joke was on him. He landed on his elbow and I climbed over him and aimed for his nose, only I was so dizzy that my punch simply grazed his cheek and somehow slammed into the marble floor.
To my credit, I didn’t cry out.
He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back down. “Get ahold of yourself, Pablo,” he snarled. “This isn’t the time to be acting like a child!”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I screamed, pushing myself up and away from him. “You’re not my kuya. You don’t have the right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
He sighed. “I’m your elder,” he said, rubbing his fists. I suppose my face was that hard; my head sure felt like a brick. “I’m responsible for you.”
“Ah, screw you.”
“Go and get some sleep, Pablo. Clear your head out and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”
I felt like blowing him a raspberry. Instead, I cockily marched up the stairs and took the long hallway towards Rachel Ann’s room.
“Rachel Ann!” I cried out, grappling with the knob that this time actually did turn at my disposal. “Rachel Ann, you dumb...”
The words died at my throat and ended with a scream.
Perhaps being drunk helped a lot. Being drunk and removed from my usual social reservations, as well as being a day away from having survived two encounters with things best left to nightmares. Because I didn’t even stop to think. I just lunged at that long red thing poking from the ceiling, that for all the world might have just appeared to be a dangling piece of string if not for my inebriated, terrified self.
I grabbed the tongue before it touched Rachel Ann and twisted it. My hands were covered in yellow mucous, reeking of that familiar rotting stench. The ceiling heaved, and I heard the flapping of wings and a guttural cry that went “Tik-tik-tik.”
The door creaked open. Enrique’s bolo flashed in the air before I even saw him. It swung, cutting the tongue in half. A frantic scream echoed above us. The remaining sliver of the tongue disappeared into the hole it made. The dismembered part in my hands began to coil like a dying snake.
I dropped it, reached over the side of the bed, and vomited.
“Dear God,” Rachel Ann gasped.
“That was somebody’s familiar,” Enrique murmured. “A tiktik.”
I tried to gather my wits. “Bek-bek?”
“Maybe.” His face was deathly still. “Maybe not.” He turned to me.
“Her mother?” I asked, still disoriented. I wiped my hands on the sheets, trying not to look at the writhing thing on the floor.
He shrugged. The casual way he avoided answering my question worried me. I glanced at Rachel Ann—she was already out of the bed and putting on her socks.
“Whoever it is will be back,” Enrique said with a sigh. “When it sees what we did to its pet…”
“So?” I snapped. “Give me a bolo. We dealt with one before—we can do it again.”
“I doubt you’re even capable of unzipping your pants,” he said.
I flushed. “I’m sober. Don’t, Enrique. I’m sober now. So it comes back. We fight. Why do you look so Goddamned worried?”
“Because if there’s more than one...”
“We’ve already injured two.”
“We have to leave.” He looked at Rachel Ann. “Can you walk?”
“I’ll walk if we have to,” she said. She placed her hand on his arm. “Did I hear you right, though? There’s more than one?”
“Bekbek, Raul, the mother...” I started.
Enrique shook his head and I saw what he meant. My blood ran cold. “There’s others? What else is—”
“We’re going,” Enrique snapped. “I’ll explain later. Put your shoes on. And for God’s sake, keep it down. We don’t want to attract attention.”
Chapter Thirteen
* * *
* * *
“Shouldn’t we go back for the old man?” I asked for maybe the sixth time two hours or so into the woods. It’s not that I cared about him, but I thought Enrique might. It was something to say, at any rate—the silence had been grating since we left the mansion.
“He’ll be fine on his own,” Enrique grunted.
I shrugged. “I just thought—well, we’re going back the way we came from when we got attacked. Maybe it would’ve been wiser to just rouse the villagers, you know. Get them to help us.”
“No.” He kept his voice low. “Keep walking. Watch your step, Rachel.”
“I am,” she replied. “Pablo’s starting to annoy me. Are you sure you’re sober?” she added, glancing back at me.
I glared at her. “I’m sober now.”
“Really. You’ve been repeating the same damn questions over and over again.” She gestured at the sky. “It’ll be dawn, soon.”
“Good,” Enrique whispered. His breathing was laboured. He ran his hands over his eyes. “I think I know where we are. Keep going. We’ll be safe at light.”
“Are we?” I asked, but nobody answered me.
The sun’s rays finally erupted through the violet sky and it was like someone had pulled a thorn out of Enrique’s side. He collapsed under a tree. Only then did I notice how pale he had gotten—there was sweat all over his neck and arms, and his eyes looked bruised. I didn’t remember hitting him at all the night before. Even if I had, I didn’t think I was capable of causing the kind of damage he seemed to have sustained.
He noticed me looking at him and gave a half-smile. “You wanted to know. Why we didn’t stop to say goodbye, or get Ciskong. Or get help.”
I shook my head, which felt like someone had poured sand into it till it ran out of my ears before smacking me around a couple of times. I heard Rachel Ann kneel quietly behind me.
“All of them,” he said. “They’re all...”
“No,” Rachel Ann gasped.
“Yes.” He glanced in my direction. “Every single one of them. Those men who helped us. Berto and all his friends.”
I swallowed. A layer of dew had formed over my skin and I could feel the blood pulsing under it. “Lola Selda?” I asked, had to ask.
He nodded.
I swallowed again. “Ciskong?”
“Everyone, Pablo,” he said. And he said it so sadly that I suddenly understood. Rachel Ann figured it out, too, because she started walking backwards, her hands cupped over her mouth. I could hear the blood pounding against my ears.
Enrique watched the growing distance between us and lifted his hands. “Please,” he said. “Don’t. I don’t want to hurt you. Either of you.”
“You’re one of them?” I could feel Rachel Ann’s confusion, could sense the note of betrayal in her voice. She was shaking her head, crying. “But you—this can’t be. This is just a dream, isn’t it? Pablo, stay away from him, Pablo. Please.”
“Talk some sense, Riko,” I suggested.
Enrique sighed. “The whole village—Itumayam—is a village of aswangs. That’s why I didn’t want Ciskong to t
ake you both there. But we got a bit confused, what with the Pragedas deciding to kill you and all.”
“That’s why Ciskong wasn’t even worried about them,” I said. “Or you.”
He nodded, his eyes downcast. “We were worried for you. We never wanted to hurt you, Pablo. You’re family. We keep away from family. I told Bek-bek, but I guess they didn’t want to respect that. The Pragedas are from a different clan.”
“Wait.” I was starting to panic, but I took a deep breath. Think of the sea, I thought. The sky. Chirping birds. But the only image I could conjure was the reflection I remembered seeing from Enrique’s eyes—my image, upside-down. That had been days ago. I couldn’t understand why I would so deliberately ignore what my childhood babysitter always told me was a tell-tale sign of these creatures.
“I know it’s hard to take in...”
“Hard? You have no idea.” I flexed my fingers and then, abruptly, sat down on the ground. “But I’ll give you a chance. You’ve always seemed so sincere. A bit too far up your own ass, but sincere.” I took another breath. It seemed like something I had to force my body to do, now. “You told her to stay away from us. You never had the intention to hurt—to eat us?”
“No,” he said. “It’s hard, but if you’re sated, it’s easier to control yourself.”
“Sated.” I remembered the finger. My insides started rolling all over again.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s not what you think. I’m—I don’t hunt.”
I laughed. “Let me guess. You’re considered a vegetarian? You drink blood from cows or something?”
“I’m a scavenger,” he said. “Dead things. Dead... people.”
Your grandfather was a mortician.
“Okay,” I said, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. “So are you a—what Rebecca was?”
He swallowed. “No. I shapeshift. Like Bek-bek’s dad, only a different form.” He glanced helplessly at Rachel Ann, who was pretending, rather unsuccessfully, that she couldn’t hear us.
Something clicked. “You turn into a dog.”
He nodded. “That was me, that night, who bit you. I wanted you to go back inside, because Ciskong—well, he was getting tempted.” He shifted his eyes uneasily. “I wanted you to make sure Rachel was safe.”
“She’s safe,” I said, dismissing her with a flick of my fingers. “Ciskong would’ve broken a tooth on her.” I laughed again—it was easier than trying to look calm. “So that thing last night—the tik-tik...”
“I didn’t lie. It was someone’s familiar. I don’t know whose. I was afraid it might’ve been lola’s. Rachel isn’t family, there’s no reason why she would keep away.” He swallowed again. I heard Rachel Ann move behind me, and for a moment I was afraid she had found a bolo and wasn’t going to wait around any longer.
But she was only holding the plastic canteen of water. She thrust it at Enrique’s direction. He blinked at her. “You look terrible,” she explained.
He took the canteen, his arm trembling. “Thank you.” He lifted the spigot to his lips and drank greedily. I watched the hair fall across his thin face and bloodshot eyes and felt almost sorry for him.
“Thank you,” he said again, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Do you starve?” Rachel Ann asked. “When you don’t eat?”
He nodded. “I’ve tried fighting it. When I first turned.” He bit into his closed fist. “When Ciskong first brought me here. I learned it didn’t work like that. You stay hungry too long, you lose control of it. You’ll turn against your will and be like—like what people think you become. A mindless monster, killing everyone in sight. So you have to keep... you have to keep it in check. Animal meat works, for a time. Like a snack. But at least once a week—”
“Hold on,” I said, more for Rachel Ann’s sake than anything, because she looked like she was going to throw up. “You weren’t born like this?”
Enrique shook his head. “I was like you. I was just a kid. Then my mother died. Enrique brought me here, I had no one else. Said he was a relative.”
“So he bites you? Like I see them do in movies?” I blanched. “Oh God, you bit me—does that mean...”
“No,” he whispered. “It’s not like that. It’s more complicated than that. You have to... well okay, for me, it was like this. Fernan and his family got into an accident a few weeks after I got here. Most of them died on the scene, but they took Fernan to the hospital. Ciskong took me there, said it was urgent. Before he died he coughed out a black pebble. Lolo took it and made me swallow it.”
He looked down again, as if the memory still hurt him to this day. At least, I hope it was that, and not just hunger pangs. “I didn’t know what was happening. Fernan died and lolo took me up to the village. Lola Selda explained it all to me but I didn’t really believe her. I tried to hide from them in the closet, and that was where I turned. I remember feeling so dizzy, and thirsty—everything else was a blur. I remember Ciskong breaking the door down and dragging me out. Then I heard a scream. By the time I knew what was happening I was... there was this little girl they caught, and I...”
“Don’t.” Rachel Ann grabbed my arm. “Can you find us something to eat? A rabbit, maybe?”
“Where in God’s name am I supposed to find a rabbit and how the hell am I supposed to catch one if I do?” I snapped. My reply didn’t amuse her. I glanced at Enrique, who had fallen silent with his hands clutched around his ribs. “I don’t want to leave you here,” I said.
“I’ll be fine. Go get us some food.”
“We should have taken food.” I took one hesitant step towards Enrique. “How long haven’t you eaten, anyway?”
“I’ve been eating what you have,” he said lazily. “It goes through me like water.”
“I was asking about that other thing.”
“Since that night,” he grunted. “When you saw me. I...”
“Don’t bother with the details.” I turned to Rachel Ann again. “We have time. He said a week. That wasn’t even a week ago.”
“Look at him, Pablo!” Rachel Ann cried. I didn’t move. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll find him something. You girls stay here.” She gave me one last disgusted look and stormed off.
When she disappeared, I sat down again and tried to smile. “Girls, ah.”
“She’s dealing with this better than you are,” he said from the corner of his mouth.
I snorted. “That’s only because I’m related to you. Besides, she likes dogs.” I pulled my cellphone out and flipped it open. The battery was almost done and I hadn’t received any messages—possibly because I was too far away to get reception. I stuffed it into my back pocket and sighed.. “So... that girl you were saying. She was your first kill.”
“And my last.” He sighed. “They say when you first turn you need something... something fresh, almost immediately. Or else the power won’t have something to hold on to, and you lose yourself. But... I can still hear it, most nights. Her scream. Sometimes I think I even see her face.” He bit his lip. “I tried to fight it after that. Locked myself up inside the room. It was painful. After a few days I started turning against my will. Would’ve escaped, but Ciskong gave me something to eat and told me if I was going to be so damn stubborn I could just do what his brother did.”
“What? Oh. Ew. My grandfather. Now I see.” I tried to make light of it, but I couldn’t shake that feeling of revulsion creeping over my skin. My grandfather, the mortician. Cutting up dead people to prepare them for their loved ones. Making off with the liver and heart and snarfing it on the side. I had heard it before, somewhere—everywhere—but it was the first time I was able to form a solid picture in my head. No wonder my father wouldn’t make contact with his family. No wonder my father...
Does he enjoy it? Being a nurse. Having to sit around looking at sick people and dead people all the time.
“Can’t you just cough that stone out, if that’s what’s giving you all this?” I asked, my mind going in s
o many directions that I was afraid if I stopped talking I would explode. “Just get a toothbrush and poke.”
“When the stone leaves you, you die.”
“Oh,” I said. I sank back.
He looked at me, him and his sunken face that was almost eerily corpse-like in this light, and asked, “Are you okay, Pablo?”
I told him the truth. “I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wanted to laugh again, but I was done. That vial of sarcasm was all tapped out. “It’s not your fault,” I said, although it kind of was. His and mine, to be honest. And everyone’s. Rachel Ann. Rachel Ann’s father. Stupid Mike. Aunt Sabelle. My mom. My dad. Everything spiralling together, bumping me towards that inevitable chasm that ensured my life would never be the same again.
I think I cried, then. I don’t remember. Enrique was nice enough to look away and never mention it to anyone since.
I had expected Rachel Ann to come back with fruit or nuts or something. She returned with a chicken. She dropped it on the ground and Enrique pounced on it with the kind of speed one wouldn’t expect from a guy who looked about to collapse any moment. I looked away. It was getting increasingly hard to pretend that none of this bothered me.
I mean, a day and a half ago, none of this was real. Anything out of place I could just chalk up to the old man’s eccentricities, and Enrique was just another annoying guy Rachel Ann happened to have fallen in love with. I still felt like I was hovering around the edges of a dream I could wake up from any moment now. Come on Pablo, I thought, trying hard to ignore the revolting, crunching sounds from behind me. You just drank too much. Remember all that booze last night?
The crazy thing of course was I didn’t even have a headache to remind me of that. I just had a ridiculously dry mouth and an aching liver. But otherwise, trying to take all of this in had resulted in me not even realizing how tired I’d gotten, how much I craved sleep.
“Will we be safe here?” I didn’t direct the question at anyone in particular.
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