by E. C. Bell
“It did scare me,” James said. He reached across the table and took my hand. “Please,” he said. “Find someone you can trust and resume your therapy. Please.”
I looked at the clock on the wall. It was two forty-five and I was exhausted. I wished desperately that I could go back to sleep, but knew it wouldn’t happen. I was done for the night. Again.
“I will,” I said.
“Promise?” he asked.
There was that word again.
“Yes,” I said. “I promise.”
WHEN THE SUN was finally up, we got ready to go to the office.
“I’m going to call Mrs. Soon-to-be-divorced Vickerson,” James said. “And tell her I can’t work tonight. That something’s come up.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. I poured the last of the coffee into two metal take out cups, sloppily doped them, and secured the lids. “You have to go tonight. You signed that contract.”
“She’ll understand,” he said. He looked tired and anxious, and I wished he hadn’t stayed up with me all night. I was glad he’d done it, because having him with me helped, but it had done nothing good for him. “I don’t think you should be alone.”
I scoffed. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have Millie with me for the rest of the day, and while I’m at the ball diamond, I’ll be with my team. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, you have to be able to get to the game,” he said. “And I’ll have the car.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve got it covered.”
“How?” he asked, and then scoffed. “Somebody from your team picking you up?”
“Actually, yes,” I said. The last time Stacey, the first baseman, had asked me to go for a beer with the team, she’d given me her number.
“Call if you need a ride,” she’d said. So I had.
James looked surprised, and then pleased. “That’s good,” he said.
“See?” I replied. “I’m growing as a person.”
To be honest, I didn’t know how the drive to the diamond would be, with small talk and all that, but at least James would be able to go to work.
“Is she giving you a ride home after?” he asked.
The thought of small talking all the way back home didn't sound quite as great. “I hadn't talked to her about it,” I said. “How about you come after you’re done? Maybe you can catch some of the game.”
He laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
“See?” I said. “All figured out. I’ll be just fine, James. Everything’s covered. You can do your job and I’ll be just fine.”
I thought we had it all decided, but when we got to the office, he tried one more gambit.
“Maybe I should put off my appointment,” he said. “Just until tomorrow. I do like coming to your games, you know,” He looked at me imploringly. He reminded me of Millie when she tried to get one more Tim Bit.
The look didn’t work.
“You should be able to catch some of the game after work, and if you don’t, I’ll get Greg to phone you,” I said. “He’ll give you every detail. Promise.”
Luckily, Sylvia Worth called, so James had to give the whole “I want to come to your game and protect you from the whole world,” thing a rest.
“I have news,” Sylvia said. “Big news. Is James there? He needs to hear this too.”
I put her on speaker and we both bent over the phone as she gave us her news. Sylvia was right. It was huge.
The medical examiner had started the examination and she’d found something on Karen’s body. Specifically, she’d found skin under Karen’s fingernails.
“Karen fought back,” Sylvia said. “She fought whoever killed her. The ME’s office is giving the DNA tests top priority. Marie, I think we’ll be able to prove who killed her, soon.”
James and I looked at each other. James smiled, but I couldn’t do that. Not yet.
In spite of everything I’d said to Karen, I had been sure that there was not going to be a hope in hell that the cops would ever be able to prove who killed her. Now, I could barely wrap my head around what I’d just heard.
Karen had done that. She’d been a fighter even when there was no hope, and now, the cops would be able to prove everything.
“I’ll let her know,” I said. “She’ll be pleased.”
I just hoped it would be enough for her.
STACEY PICKED ME up, just like she’d promised. I was afraid that me bringing Millie was going to be problem, but all she did was laugh hard when I dropped the dog in the back seat of her car.
“I’m used to kids on the bench, but we don’t often have dogs,” she said.
“She’ll be good,” I said. “I hope.”
We spent the rest of the ride talking about her, and what a pain in the butt she would be at the game, which took care of the small talk situation quite nicely. Then we picked up burgers, scarfing them down in the front seat of the car when we parked at the ball diamond.
We were supposed to play our game on Diamond Two, but it was torn apart, so we’d been relegated to Diamond Four. Normally, the beer leagues played on Diamond Four, and the beat-up condition of the infield attested to that fact, but soon enough we were warming up, and the other team arrived, and then the umps. And then, we played.
In spite of very little sleep I had a hell of a game, if I do say so myself. I caught three fly balls and managed four more outs at first base in the first three innings. The other team got desperate after that, and never hit another ball out to right field, so mostly I had the best seat in the house for the rest of the game. When we were at bat, I hit every time. Mostly singles, but once I hit a triple, which was glorious. Almost as good as a home run. Almost.
After the game, Stacey nudged me with her elbow. “You better tell me you’re coming for beer tonight. Since I gave you a ride here.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Can’t make it. Besides, I’ve got Millie. They won’t let her in.”
I think she was going to argue, but subsided when I brought up the dog. Part of me wished I could have gone for a beer with the team, but I had business at the diamond, and I didn’t want her to hang around for that. No matter how nice Stacey was, I had secrets and I wasn’t ready to let her in.
But, I hoped James and I could go after the next game. I suspected we would have a good time.
I glanced over at Diamond Two, and saw a weak glow emanating from it. Karen was there, with her team. I needed to check in with her to make sure she was okay. And to tell her Sylvia’s news about the DNA so, perhaps, I could talk her out of her vengeance scheme.
I gave James a call as I gathered the dog and my equipment. “The game’s done,” I said. “But I’m going to go talk to Karen. Tell her developments and what not. Want to come get me when you’re done?”
“I’d be happy to,” he said. “Almost done here. Give me half an hour. Maybe less.”
“Get here as quick as you can and I’ll tell you all about the game. Hey, maybe we can go for a beer with the rest of my team. They can tell you all about our big win.”
“Sounds great,” he said, and signed off.
Finally, I was alone.
I had thirty minutes to talk to Karen. I hoped it was enough.
BOTH DEAD TEAMS were preparing to play. I dropped my equipment by the bleachers, tied Millie to the fence, and waved at Karen. She walked away from second base and the huge hole that had held her body for so long.
“You’re going to play here?” I asked, pointing at the hole. “With that?”
She shrugged. “We’ll make do,” she said. “This is where we always play.”
“Right.” I looked at her. “You look good. Calm. You know?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It helped to get back here.” She pointed at the rest of the dead, most of whom were warming up. “And seeing them, too. It all helps.”
“I get that,” I said. “I have some news for you. I think it will help, too.”
“Good news?” she asked.
“Very
good news,” I said.
I told her about Sylvia’s phone call. About the skin found under her body’s nails and how it could be used to convict Andy.
“You did that,” I said. “When you fought him.”
“And you’ll be able to prove that it’s him, from that skin?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
I heard a gasp from the left side of the diamond, near third base. The dead woman standing there was staring at something in the dark, beside the bleachers.
I tried to see what had surprised her, and caught sight of someone walking around the bleachers next to the left field dugout. Looked like a man. Karen stared at the figure, and her light faded. “Jesus,” she whispered. “It’s him.”
“Who?” I asked.
I shouldn’t have had to ask, but I was honestly shocked when she said, “It’s Andrew.”
He walked between the backstop and the bleachers in my direction. The dead looked as surprised to see him as I felt. But not Karen. She looked resigned.
“I knew he’d come,” she said.
“Well, I didn’t,” I replied. I pulled my cell phone free and called James.
“What, you want me to pick you up a coffee?” he asked. I could hear noise in the background. Sounded like he was driving. “You’re lucky. I haven’t ordered yet.”
“James,” I said, “He’s here. Andy Westwood is here. At the diamond.”
“Has he seen you?”
I looked at the dark figure walking toward me. He waved. “Hey, Marie!” he called. “Good game tonight. Really good game.”
I blinked, and took a step back. Stumbled over the lowest bleacher row, and scrambled to regain my footing.
“Yes,” I said into the phone. “He has.”
“Marie, get out of there!” James cried. “Get to the parking lot. Onto the street. Run west toward Parson’s Road. I’ll be there five minutes, tops. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I said. I tried to keep my voice calm, and almost pulled it off. “Just hurry, okay?”
“Five minutes,” James said. “I’ll call the cops. Just run. Now!”
“Hey, Marie,” Andy called. “Can we talk?”
I turned away from him and scrambled past the bleacher to the gate. If I hurried, I’d make it out the gate and then it was a clear run through the parking lot to the street. I was much younger than Andy, and I was more scared. There was no way he’d catch up to me in time. No way.
“Marie!” he cried. “Don’t run away! I have to talk to you!”
I heard him behind me. Right behind me. I squealed, hating the sound of fear, like a piglet about to be butchered, but he was faster than me. Jesus, I thought as I felt him grab the back of my hoodie and haul me back into his arms. Jesus, he’s going to kill me.
“Let me go!” I cried. “The cops are on their way. Let me go!”
Andy whirled me around in his arms and shook me. “I just want to talk to you and you call the cops?” he cried. “What’s wrong with you?”
I heard keening coming from somewhere. Everywhere. It sounded like sirens from more than one car. Ray must’ve called for backup.
“Hear that?” I said. “It’s the cops. They’re almost here.”
“I hear nothing,” he said, and shook me again. “I just want you to tell Sylvia Worth to stop this witch hunt. You’re friends with her. Tell her to leave me alone. I’ve done nothing wrong. Do you hear me? I’m a model frigging citizen!”
He shook me with every word, and my head snapped back and forth like I was a rag doll. God, he was strong.
I kicked at his legs and then some of my self-defence training finally popped into my head. Kicking was wrong. I needed to go for his nose.
I curled my fingers and jabbed the heel of my palm at his nose as hard as I could. My palm connected with his face, and I felt the bone snap. He screeched and let go of me to put his hands to his suddenly bleeding face.
“You bitch,” he cried. “You broke my frigging nose. What the hell’s wrong with you? I just wanted to talk.”
I wheeled away from him, intent on heading out that gate, but before I took a step, he grabbed me by the hoodie again. He threw me to the ground and flung himself on top of me, straddling my waist. The worst position to be in. The absolute worst.
“Do everything you can to keep your attacker from pinning you,” the dry voice of my self-defence instructor whispered in my head as I frantically writhed under him. “Everything.”
I went for the nose again but he was ready for me this time and slapped my hand away. Then he pinned my arms beneath his legs, placed his hands on my shoulders, and leaned.
“I just want to talk to you,” he said. “What don’t you understand about that?”
“Let me go,” I yelled. At least I tried to yell, but he was leaning on my chest and it was getting hard to breathe.
The keening I’d heard before Andy attacked me was louder now, and coming from everywhere. “It’s the cops,” I wheezed. “They’re almost here. Run while there is still time.”
“I don’t hear any sirens,” he said. He moved one hand, and then the other, to my throat. I tried to move, tried to stop him, but he had my arms pinned and he was sitting on my chest and his fingers tightened on my throat and all I could see was his angry, crazy eyes. “You should have listened to me,” he said, tightening his fingers. “I told you.”
The keening got louder. Sounded more like screaming than keening, and I could see flickering lights boiling over the bleachers toward us.
“You should have listened to me,” I wheezed. “And run.”
And then, the dead were on him, and he started to scream.
Karen:
Finally, Vengeance
ANDREW MOVED FAST which caught us all off guard. He’d seemed like such a slug all the years he’d sat in the bleachers watching the girls play ball that I didn’t think he had the capacity to move quickly anymore. But he did.
“We have to stop him,” I said. “He has her. He’s going to kill her.”
I stepped through the fence, realized I was alone, and turned back. The rest of the team were standing, staring at me.
“I can’t do this by myself!” I cried. “I’m not strong enough! I need you!”
One by one, they came to me. Stood by me, so that our light coalesced and glowed stronger and stronger. Then we poured over the bleachers and down onto him and Marie.
He had Marie by the throat and was screaming into her face. Just like he’d done to me so many years before. That was when we all went crazy.
We swarmed him, scratching his arms and face and neck. We stuffed ourselves into him, as many as could fit, and tore at him from the inside. We bit him, everywhere. We gouged and gored and tore.
He screamed and threw his arms up to protect his face.
“What are you doing?” he cried. “What are you doing?”
“We’re hurting you,” I cried. “Just the way you hurt me.” I grabbed him by the throat and tore at it, revelling in the rivulets of blood that mixed with the blood from his broken nose. “We’re giving you everything you deserve!”
He was talking to Marie, of course, because he couldn’t see us. As much damage as we were wreaking on his body, he could not see us. Didn’t know that it was me doing this to him. Me. Finally me.
“Tell him!” I screamed at Marie. “Tell him it’s me!”
Marie coughed and scrambled weakly, still trapped under Andrew’s legs. We had to get him off her so that she could be free. Free of him. So she could tell him what I was finally doing to him.
“Lift!” I cried. “Lift him up.”
The women outside grabbed him and lifted. The women inside him did the same. And, after a moment, he moved up. Just an inch, but he moved.
Andrew screamed again, and I could finally see terror in his eyes. I pulled at his eyelids, wishing I was tearing the very eyes out of his head, and he moved upward another inch, and then another.
Marie finally had enough roo
m and scrambled away from his writhing body. She scrabbled back, against the fence, and grabbed at her poor bruised throat.
“Tell him it’s me!” I cried. She shook her head so we lifted him a foot in the air, and then another. “Tell him it’s me,” I said. “I deserve this! You know I do!”
A siren blared from somewhere, and car lights flashed over the fence as a vehicle careened into the empty parking lot toward us.
“Put him down,” Marie said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “He’ll be brought to justice. I promise.”
“No,” I said. “Justice isn’t what I’m after.”
We dragged him up in the air, higher and higher, until he was level with the top of the bleachers. He screamed and flailed, and I felt such angry joy, I could barely contain myself.
“How are you doing this?” he cried. Still at Marie. And she finally answered.
“It’s not me,” she said. “It’s the girl you killed.”
“What?” he cried. He looked confused, and that infuriated me.
“My name is Karen Dubinsky!” I howled, and pulled him even higher in the air. “And this is for killing me!”
And then, I let him drop.
Marie:
The Season's Not Over
ANDY HIT THE ground and I heard something crack. As he fell silent, so did the ghosts. They floated above him, staring down at his unconscious face.
“Is he dead?” someone, maybe Joanne, asked. “Did we kill him?”
I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to his body. He was still breathing. “No,” I said. “You didn’t.”
“That’s too bad.” Karen floated down beside me and stared at him. “Maybe we should finish the job.”
“That’s enough!” I cried. “You’ve done enough!”
A police car slewed to a stop at the fence and the cop leaped from his car, gun drawn.
“Please stop,” I whispered to Karen. “The police will handle this now. Please.”
Karen glowed so strongly, I could barely look at her. “Are you all right?”