Dead Statues

by Tim O'Rourke

  “Kiera,” he whispered, pulling me close.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I looked up into his face, and could see the love he had for me in his eyes, that unconditional love that a father has for his daughter. How could I tell him, even begin to explain, that in my world he had died from cancer, and in this world – his world – I had come back from the dead?

  As my mind tried to scramble into some kind of order, he said, “What are you doing here? I thought you had gone away to study for your sergeant’s exam? What are you doing back already?”

  I blinked and felt more of my tears trickle onto my face in warm rivulets. “I thought I was dead here?” I breathed, the words out before I had a chance to stop them.

  “Dead?” he frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought I was dead,” was all I could say back at him, my mind now wondering if Potter and Murphy hadn’t lied to me. Perhaps they had hoped if they told me my father was grieving for me in this world, then perhaps I would have left him alone – not gone looking for him.

  “Well, you don’t look dead to me,” he smiled, brushing my fringe gently from my brow.

  “Come inside and warm up by the fire. I’ve got some of your favourite biscuits – Cadbury’s chocolate fingers.”

  I couldn’t remember ever actually liking them, but perhaps I did in this world? I wondered as he took me by the hand and led me towards the front door.

  “Dad?” I said, and that word sounded strange coming from my mouth. I hadn’t called anyone that for such a very long time.

  “Huh?” he said, looking back at me as we reached the open front door.

  “I really thought I was dead,” I said, now feeling so confused that my brain was beginning to hurt.

  “You’re stressed, that’s all that’s wrong with you, Kiera,” he said, leading me into the warmth. “You’ve been stressing about that sergeant’s exam for months. I knew no good would come of it.”

  “But...” I started, as he closed the front door, and then took my coat from me.

  “You go and sit down and warm yourself up,” he said. “I’ll make you a nice cup of sweet tea.”

  “Coffee,” I whispered.

  “When did you start drinking coffee?” he said with a curious stare.

  “Only recently,” I said, looking away.

  “Coffee it is,” he smiled and headed towards the kitchen.

  Alone in the snug-looking living room, I armed the tears from my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweater. I sat in a chair before the fire, and glanced about the room. There were several pictures of us on the wall above the fire. I looked at them and couldn’t see the picture which Potter had brought back from my flat for me. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t on the wall. Thinking of Potter again, I began to feel angry at him. How dare he tell me that I was dead in this world, when I was very much alive? If Potter had been lying, then there would be two of me in this world. The othe r me was away studying for the police sergeant’s exam.

  Then suddenly standing up, realising what a mess I was creating, I headed back towards the front door. What would happen if the other Kiera – my other self – suddenly showed up here? What would happen then? My mind raced as I took my coat from the hook by the door where my father had hung it. What would happen when my other self did return from her study leave, and my father spoke of me turning up talking about being dead?

  No, I had to leave! Regardless of whether Potter had lied to me about me being dead or alive, coming here had been a big mistake. Somebody was going to get hurt, and I didn’t want that someone to be my father. He had no knowledge of what had happened in the world before it got pushed. I was wrong to make him a part of this.

  Slowly, I lifted the latch on the front door and opened it.

  “Kiera?” he suddenly said from behind me.

  To hear him say my name hurt so much. I never thought I would hear my dad say my name again.

  “Where are you going, Kiera?” he asked sounding confused.

  I daren’t look back at him, because if I did, I would stay. I wouldn’t be able to leave him again.

  “I can’t stay,” I whispered, the front door half open.

  “But you haven’t drunk your coffee,” he said gently.

  “I have to go,” I said, tears spilling onto my cheeks again, just wanting to turn and run into his arms.

  “What’s wrong, Kiera?” he hushed, coming close. “You can talk to me. I’m your dad.

  It doesn’t matter if you fail some police exam. I’ll be proud of you whatever happens, you know I love...”

  “Stop,” I begged him. I didn’t want to hear him say that he loved me. I wasn’t the Kiera he loved. I was someone else. I was a freak, a monster with claws, wings, and fangs. If he really knew what I was, he would run a hundred miles just to get away from me.

  “Please just let me leave,” I whispered, still unable to look back at him.

  I felt him place his hand on my shoulder and pull me close. Then, unable to help myself, I turned to look at him. He had a worried look on his face. Then wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he said, “Don’t look so sad, Kiera. You look so pretty when you smile.”

  Looking into his eyes, I smiled back at him. Then, there was a sudden flash of light. With my father’s arm wrapped about my shoulders and the smile still on my lips, I turned towards the light.

  In the open doorway stood a hooded figure, a camera in its hand.

  Chapter Twenty

  Potter

  “Stop the van,” I told Murphy.

  “Are you out of your tiny fucking mind?”

  he barked at me.

  “I’m going after Kiera,” I told him as he raced the van through the maze of winding country roads.

  “I only came back because I saw those berserkers...” I started.

  “What do you mean, you only came back because you saw the berserkers?” he glanced at me as he navigated the narrow roads.

  Sam and Kayla sat quietly in the back of the van.

  “I was on my way to find Kiera,” I explained. “I think she is walking into a trap.”

  “You don’t know that for sure?” Murphy said. “And even if you are right, who do think is behind it?”

  “How the fuck should I know?” I said.

  “Whoever has been screwing with us since we came back, I guess. And besides, we promised we would wait for her at that cottage until tomorrow morning, and you’ve just gone and burnt it down.”

  “So did you!” Murphy reminded me.

  “Look, I’m not interested in who set fire to the goddamn cottage,” I said. “I just want to go and get Kiera.”

  “Then we go together,” Murphy said, slamming on the brakes so hard and fast that I shot from my seat. My face smashed into the windscreen and I roared in pain.

  “Can you stop doing that!” I yelled.

  “Every time I get into a vehicle with you, I end up with a broken fucking nose”

  “Quit complaining, you tart,” Murphy grunted as he tried to turn the van in the road.

  “Jesus, you’re meant to be this superhuman creature from the underworld, and you’re sitting there bitching because you’ve bumped your head!”

  “Bumped my head!” I roared in disbelief.

  “You just about smashed my face in.” Then touching the end of the nose with the tips of my fingers I said, “Look, I’ve got a nosebleed now thanks to you.”

  “Let’s have a look,” Kayla said sticking her face between the front seats and sounding hungry.

  “Fuck off, Kayla,” I snapped at her. “I’ve just stood and watched you eat a berserker, for crying-out-loud. Now, sit back and get a grip, for fuck’s sake!”

  “You’re such a grouch,” she moaned, taking her seat in the back again.

  “I just want to go and get Kiera,” I groaned.

  “We’re going,” Murphy barked at me.

  “Stop getting so excited.”

  “I’m not getting excited!” I s
eethed.

  “Yeah you are,” Sam said from the back of the van.

  I glared at him over my shoulder and said, “Who asked you?”

  “I just think that those berserkers were not just after us because of what happened at Ravenwood School,” Sam started to explain. “Nor do I think they are just after Kiera because they suspect she is this dead angel who has come to destroy the wolves.”

  “What you trying to tell us, kid?” Murphy said, glancing up so he could see Sam’s reflection in the rear-view mirror.

  “Those berserkers and the Skin-walkers want Kayla, too,” he said.

  I turned again in my seat and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Sam glanced at Kayla, then back at me, as Murphy listened but concentrated on driving the van. “When that wolf tried to match with me back at Ravenwood School,” he started to explain. “It was like I got a glimpse into the wolf’s mind before Isidor saved me. I could hear its thoughts – its feelings. Me and Kayla had both been chosen for matching. Kayla had been chosen because McCain had kept reports on all of the kids there.

  He made reports about Kayla – detailed reports.

  He noticed that she was different in some way to the others. The wolfman can look human but his intended bride, a wolf named Lola, was meant to have matched with Kayla. But you showed up with Kiera and Isidor and we all managed to escape. The wolfman is still looking for Kayla – he wants her to be his bride.”

  “Did you know about this?” Murphy asked, glancing back at Kayla.

  She sat quietly and nodded.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked her, not feeling angry but confused.

  “Because there seemed to be so much going on,” she started. “What, with us needing to get Sam to the Fountain of Souls.”

  “Fountain of Souls?” Murphy spluttered.

  “You’ve heard of it?” Sam asked him.

  “Heard of it?” Murphy barked. “I died there.”

  “Is that were the wolves killed you?” Sam said.

  “One of your kind double-crossed him and ended up ripping his heart out,” I barked at Sam.

  “Well, we have to go back,” Sam said, staring back at me.

  “Why?” Murphy asked, cocking an eyebrow at him in the rear-view mirror.

  “Because that’s where the Dead Waters are,” he said.

  “The what?” I asked straight back.

  “I don’t know exactly, but the wolf who tried to match with me knew about them. He had been warned about them,” Sam said. “I know they can help you.”

  “How?” I pushed.

  “I’ve seen you all drinking from those little bottles that you carry around in your pockets,” he said, looking at each of us in turn. “I know about the cracks that form in your flesh. You look like you’re turning to stone unless you drink that pink stuff in those bottles or feed off each other.”

  “How do you know about that?” I asked, feeling suddenly suspicious of him again.

  “He saw me start to turn to stone at Ravenwood,” Kayla spoke up. “He stabbed me and the wound started to turn to stone, just like a statue. Sam gave me some of the Lot 13 I had smuggled into the school with me.”

  “He stabbed you?” I snapped, my suspicions growing ever stronger.

  “It’s a long story,” Kayla said. “It was a mistake, that’s all. But you should listen to Sam.”

  “We can’t go back to the Fountain of Souls,” I said, looking sideways “That’s where the wolves live. How do we know he’s not leading us into a trap just like we were led into one before by the Lycanthrope?”

  Murphy didn’t answer straight away. He sat and stared at the road ahead, through the snow which had started to fall again. “Go and find Kiera, Potter,” he finally said.

  “What about you?” I asked him.

  “I’m going to take Kayla and Sam back to the Fountain of Souls and see if I can’t find these Dead Waters,” he said.

  “Are you for fucking real?” I said. “Have you forgotten what happened there?”

  “I can’t forget,” Murphy said. “But what other options do we have? Drive around with our thumbs up our arse until the lot 13 runs out, until we’ve bled each other dry and we all turn to stone?”

  “Kiera was taking us to the fountains,”

  Sam cut in.

  “No one asked you,” I snapped back at him. Then, looking back at Murphy, I said, “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’ve heard that the fountains and the caves beneath them have been vacated by the wolves in this world,” Murphy said, glancing at me. “Perhaps the boy is right.”

  “We’ve put our trust in a wolf before,” I tried to remind him again.

  Murphy slowed the vehicle and pulled into a snow-laden ditch. “We’ll wait for you on the edges of the forests which conceal the fountains,”

  he said, looking at me. “Now don’t just sit there admiring my good looks. Get going and bring Kiera back safely. If what the kid says is true about these Dead Waters, it could be the answer to our prayers.”

  Without saying another word, I climbed from the van and stepped onto the road. Murphy started the engine again, and slowly drove the van away. I patted my coat pocket and listened for that reassuring clink of the bottles of Lot 13. I thought I’d hidden the fact that I’d too been cracking up, from everyone – even Kiera, who always saw everything. But I hadn’t fooled the boy, Sam. He had seen and knew a lot.

  I watched the van disappear around a bend in the road. Then, when I was alone, I opened one of those tiny bottles, threw my head back and gulped down the gloopy pink substance in one large gulp.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kiera

  “Who was that?” I gasped, the sudden flash from the camera causing me to blink. When I opened my eyes again, the hooded figure had gone from the open doorway and I wondered if it had even been there.

  “Oh, they just wanted to take our photograph,” my father smiled at me.

  “Sorry?” I said, feeling utterly confused.

  “Who wanted to take our photograph?”

  “Pay them no mind,” he smiled, reaching out behind me and swinging the front door closed.

  The wind howled outside as I thought of the photograph which Potter had brought back from my flat. I looked at my father and realised that photograph had just been taken as he stood with his arm around my shoulders. I looked at his jet-black hair and realised that the white streaks of grey I had seen in the photograph hadn’t been his fading hair at all, but the last flakes of melting snow carried in on his hair from outside.

  “Dad, we are in danger,” I breathed. “We can’t stay here.”

  “What are you talking about, Kiera?” he frowned.

  “Someone has set a trap for us,” I said, reaching for the latch.

  “A trap, for me?” he frowned again, but this time I was sure I could see the faintest traces of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

  “No,” I said, sensing that something was suddenly very wrong here. “A trap has been set for me.”

  “Very good,” he said, suddenly pulling me close. He snaked his arms around me, but it wasn’t like the hold of a father – more like that of a lover. He ran one hand through my hair, and the other down my spine letting it come to rest in the small of my back.

  “What are you doing?” I squirmed against him, feeling scared and uncomfortable. “Let go of me.”

  “But I’m your father,” he whispered, his lips curling upwards, making his face look suddenly unkind. “I’m your daddy.”

  His hand, which was still in the small of my back, slowly slid further down and I felt his fingers brush over my buttocks.

  “Get off me!” I screeched, pushing him away with the palms of my hands. “What are you doing?”

  With his arm wrapped so tight around me I was beginning to find it difficult to breathe, my father looked into my eyes. Their almost perfect blue began to fade and take on a new colour. A brighter colour. Yellow. H
is eyes almost seem to spin in their sockets and sink further back into his face. Again I tried to pull away, but he held onto me. Just like his eye sockets had begun to form to dark hollows in his face, his cheeks began to sink inwards too. At first I thought that somehow, he was being eaten up by the cancer again. That the two worlds were overlapping. Then, as he pulled me closer, so the tips of our noses were almost touching, his face began to ripple – twist out of shape, until it looked like someone I recognised.

  “Jack Seth!” I gasped, feeling repulsed by his touch.

  He gave me a knowing smile, his lips rolling back to reveal his black rotting gums and broken teeth. His face looked more emaciated than I had remembered it to be. His thin, wispy hair stuck out from the sides of his head and from behind his ears. Just as his face had changed, so had his body. It stretched against me, and again I tried to pull away from him. His bony arms were locked around me like a vice. I looked up into his face as he towered over me. I no longer felt scared, just angry and confused.

  “Why? I asked him.

  Before he had the chance to answer, I heard the front door swing open behind me, a flurry of snow sweeping in and making me shiver in Seth’s arms.

  I glanced back to see that hooded figure standing in the open doorway again. It was difficult to see if it were male or female. With face hidden and body concealed beneath long, grey robes, there was nothing for me to see.

  Glancing back at Seth, I stared into his eyes. I tried not to, but it was hard to resist. His eyes spun around and around like two Catherine wheels in their sunken sockets.

  “What do you want with me?” I breathed, no longer revolted by his touch.

  “I want you to choose,” he smiled.

  I felt a sudden pain in the back of my head and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Potter

  I didn’t know if Murphy had made the right decision in heading for the Fountain of Souls and the Dead Waters that Sam had spoken of.