Dead Spots

by Rhiannon Frater

  With a sigh, Mackenzie swiped the screen again.

  It was a 3D image of Joshua’s little face. He looked so sweet and peaceful, his tiny fists curled up under his chin.

  Her finger paused over the screen.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she scrolled to the next photo. In the image, Mackenzie was holding Joshua and staring into his still face with a heartbroken expression. Tanner’s arm rested around her shoulders, his cheek pressed against hers. It was a black-and-white photo, but Joshua’s dark lips in the photo could not be missed. The terrible memory of those tiny lips slowly turning black haunted her. The nurse had warned her and Tanner that babies decomposed much more quickly due to their size and that signs of it would appear as they held him. Mackenzie hadn’t cared. She just wanted a few precious hours holding Joshua before she would have to let him go forever. He’d felt so small in her arms, so delicate.

  Why did she do this to herself? Why didn’t she just delete the photos and forget they existed?

  Pressing the phone to her chest, she closed her eyes, feeling her heart thudding beneath her fingers. Tears drizzled from the corners of her eyelids and flowed into her hair.

  The answer was simple. She had sworn she would never forget her son’s face. No matter what happened in her life, she would remember that he had been conceived out of a great love that simply could not endure past his death. People wanted her to move on by not remembering her tragedy. Their well-meaning advice to forget, not hold on to, the past and embrace a new way of life was like a dagger through her soul. Mackenzie couldn’t accept that advice. How could she abandon the memory of her child? She wanted to leave behind her guilt, regrets, and anger, but it was so hard when her mother’s voice hissed in her mind over and over again, laying the blame at her feet.

  Her heart beating fast in her chest, anxiety rising to the surface, Mackenzie concentrated on her breathing exercises. Maybe she shouldn’t have risked looking at the photos while trapped in the nightmare world. The whole harrowing day had been one anxiety-inducing moment after another. The empty house, the Goodwill movers, the cemetery, and her trip out of Shreveport felt like another life. That realization was terrifying. Was she accepting the insanity of the dead spots that easily?

  “I can beat this,” Mackenzie whispered, swiping her tongue over her lips. “I can be strong.”

  Closing her eyes, she kept her breathing steady. She wondered if the Xanax was still in her system, but it really didn’t matter. From this point on she would have to weather the anxiety storms without her pills and find a way to cope on her own.

  Surprisingly, sleep came sooner than she expected.

  * * *

  “Mac,” Tanner’s voice said, pushing its way insistently through her muddled dreams. “Mac, wake up!”

  “I’m so sleepy,” she complained, trying to snuggle deeper under the blankets.

  “Mac, the baby won’t stop crying. You gotta help me.”

  Through the layers of thick fabric, she heard the plaintive wail of a newborn. Pushing aside the covers, she gazed up in confusion at Tanner. He crouched over her, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed tightly together. It was his stressed look.

  “The baby?”

  “Yeah, the baby. Our baby!” He frowned at her. “First you’re sleeping in the hallway so you can be close to him and then you don’t wake up when he cries? What the hell, Mac?”

  Shoving away the covers, she tried to waken fully, but her brain felt mushy. “I … uh…”

  “He won’t take the bottle. He won’t stop crying. I think something’s wrong.” Tanner grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet.

  Sweeping her dark hair back from her face, Mackenzie wobbled as she tried to focus. The world looked distorted.

  Tanner tugged on her hand. “C’mon.”

  Trying to press through the cloudiness in her brain, Mackenzie reached for the closed door of the nursery.

  “No, Mac. Not in there. In the other room.”

  “Other room?”

  Tanner’s expression darkened with frustration. “What the hell, Mac? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled, allowing him to guide her through the hallway. Her toes sank into the deep pile of the shag carpet and she stared at it in confusion. “When did we get carpeting?”

  “What’s up with you?” Tanner looked perplexed by her actions. “Seriously, Mac? What the fuck?”

  “Sorry,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. “I feel drugged.”

  “It’s those pain pills. I told you not to take them. Stupid doctors.”

  Tanner flung open the door. Inside was the nursery she had painstakingly decorated. Everything was in its place. A rocking chair sat in one corner and the quilted letters that spelled out Joshua’s name were neatly arranged on the dresser.

  The baby’s cries grew louder. Mackenzie staggered toward the crib. Her legs felt leaden and she had trouble maneuvering. Tanner didn’t help her, but darted past her to stare into the crib.

  “He just keeps crying and crying,” Tanner said, bending over the child and obscuring her view.

  “Where’s the bottle?” Mackenzie asked, looking around the room.

  “I got it right here.” Tanner held it up.

  The outside of the bottle was smeared with dirt.

  “You can’t give him that! It’s filthy!”

  “He’s hungry, Mac! You just left him behind! He was afraid, hungry, and alone!”

  “What?” Mackenzie ran her hands into her hair, memories beginning to surface. Her vision cleared and her equilibrium returned. “I didn’t leave him alone!”

  “Yes, you did!” Tanner whirled on her, furious. “I had to dig him up, Mac! You just left him in the dark under all that dirt. I had to dig and dig.”

  Gasping in horror, Mackenzie realized Tanner’s boots were caked in dirt and mud smeared his jeans and shirt.

  “No, no!”

  “I had to dig down to his coffin!” Tanner flung out one hand, pointing to a corner. A shovel leaned against the wall, encrusted with mud.

  The baby’s cries were growing more insistent, angrier.

  “No!” Mackenzie screamed. “No!”

  “Now he’s hungry, and he’s not eating! You need to feed him!” Tanner lunged at her and snagged the edges of her bathrobe and tore it open. Roughly he grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed.

  Mackenzie slapped him soundly, then shoved him away. His dirty hand left a smear on her skin. “Fuck you!”

  “Can’t even breastfeed him like a decent mother! Leaving him in the ground! What kind of woman are you?”

  “He’s dead!” Mackenzie screamed. “Joshua is dead!”

  Tanner glowered at her, and then pointed a finger at her face. “You fucking killed our boy!”

  The screams of the baby abruptly ceased.

  “No,” Mackenzie whispered. “No.”

  “You killed him,” Tanner hissed through clenched teeth, leaning forward so his angry face was a few inches from hers.

  “They don’t know why he died!” Mackenzie wailed. “Please, Tanner.”

  He shoved her with enough force to send her tumbling into the wall near the door with a resounding thump. “You stupid bitch. You killed him! Admit it!”

  “No! No!”

  The door banged open. Grant loomed in the doorway clad only in his trousers. His dark hair stuck up all over his head and he looked drowsy. “Mackenzie, don’t move!”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Tanner shouted. “Are you fucking someone behind my back, Mac?”

  Overwhelmed with confusion, her mind screaming in terror, Mackenzie cowered on the floor. Her eyes were riveted to the crib. The pale blue bumper with cartoon zoo animals cavorting happily along its surface hid the tiny form lying just beyond it.

  “Mac, answer me!” Tanner advanced on her, but Grant quickly cut him off, raising the frying pan over his head. “You’re threatening me in my house?”

  “Mackenzie, don’t pay attenti
on to any of this! It’s the dead spot. He’s not Tanner. He’s a wraith!” Grant said, his voice strong and calm.

  As she rocked herself, Mackenzie’s eyes swept over the room. It was her nursery. The one she had painstakingly decorated. Her gaze roamed over every inch of it. Every detail was perfect.

  Yet, how could it be real?

  Joshua was dead and Tanner had left her.

  Memories of the day began to push through her terror, but it was difficult for her to grasp on to them and wrench away from the abyss of madness. As Tanner angrily confronted Grant, she flinched at the sound. It reminded her vividly of a night in an Austin bar when someone had copped a feel while brushing past her and Tanner had exploded in fury.

  Yet, her attention was drawn past the two shouting men to the crib. Muddy footprints scuffed the wood floor and clumps of dirt and grass clung to the rail.

  “You’re in my house half-naked and you’re getting in my face?” Tanner howled, the veins in his neck straining.

  “Don’t pay attention to him, Mackenzie!”

  “Don’t tell my wife what to do, asshole!”

  Rolling to her knees, Mackenzie pulled the bathrobe closed over her nudity. Her stomach fluttering, a building wave of anxiety threatened to crash down on her. She struggled to her feet, scurried past the arguing men, and approached the crib.

  “Mackenzie, don’t!” Grant attempted to catch her arm, but Tanner took advantage of the moment to punch him in the stomach. Grant doubled over with a groan.

  “I have to see.” Her voice sounded distant, like a faded memory. The lumps of drying mud crumbled beneath her bare feet as she drew closer to the crib.

  Behind her, Grant and Tanner wrestled, their grunts and cries of pain briefly drawing her attention from the baby bed. The men grappled on the floor, attempting to punch each other.

  Mackenzie’s hand settled on the rail of the crib. A flash of Joshua’s innocent face filled her mind. His tiny lips slightly parted as they gradually became black.

  “Don’t look, Mackenzie!” Grant yelled.

  Swallowing hard, Mackenzie looked down.

  A tiny white coffin rested on the Winnie-the-Pooh quilt. It was so small it broke her heart all over again. She had selected it because of the teddy bears and rabbits painted on the trim and the angel teddy bear on the lid. It was smeared with soil, but she could still make out the face and wings of the bear. It hurt to see the small coffin again, but it was almost a relief to know it was liberated from the claustrophobic press of the dark earth. Tenderly, she wiped away the muck from the surface with her fingertips.

  Mackenzie felt possessed by another version of herself. One that wanted to open the lid and pluck out her baby so she could hold him one last time. The reasonable side of her mind tried to draw away her hands, but instead they settled on the latch.

  Mackenzie was startled by the crash of two bodies slamming into the dresser, toppling the furniture onto its side. Looking over, she saw Tanner victoriously rise to his feet and brutally kick Grant in the ribs before whirling around to face Mackenzie.

  “Open the coffin, babe. Get Joshua out so we can be a real family again.”

  “No,” she whispered, fighting against the urge to obey him.

  Tanner rushed her and caught her before she could dart away. Snagging her wrist, he spun her about, and pressed his long muscled body against hers. Staring into her eyes, he said, “Don’t you love me?”

  It was hard to form words, let alone say them. “You’re … not … Tanner.”

  Still holding her wrist, he used the other one to pull her robe open, his fingertips sliding over her hip in a familiar, possessive way. “Why would you say that?”

  “Let go!” It was growing more difficult to breathe. The band of anxiety was constricting her chest.

  “I think it’s time we get back to being a family, Mac. You may have fucked it up, but we can be together again.” Whirling her about in his arms, he bent her over the rail, his body pinning her painfully against it. His fingers tangled in her hair, pressing her head forward. “Open it.”

  “No.” Mackenzie tried to push back against his body and away from the tiny coffin.

  “Do it!”

  “No!”

  “Then we’ll do this the hard way.”

  The mattress beneath the coffin disappeared, sending the coffin tumbling into a very deep grave. It landed in the soft, loamy earth far below with a thump. Mackenzie let out a sob of despair and fear. Tanner’s grip on her body tightened, then she was lifted over the rail and dropped into the grave. She landed beside the coffin, the air gushing out of her lungs, leaving her wheezing. The mud sucked at her hands and knees as she fought to climb to her feet. Nearby the tiny coffin was gradually sinking into the earth.

  Fingers gripping the sides of the grave, Mackenzie pulled herself upright, her feet disappearing into the soggy ground. It dragged at her like quicksand.

  “A decent mother would never leave her child alone in a grave.”

  Craning her head, she saw Tanner smiling at her from above, his folded arms resting on the rail of the crib.

  Clawing at the wall, she screamed wordlessly at Tanner.

  He smirked.

  There was movement behind Tanner, then she heard the metallic clang of the frying pan banging into the back of his head. Blood spurted around Tanner’s face like a halo before he slumped over the rail. Grant scrabbled at his shirt, trying to yank him back. Tanner grinned, grabbed the inside of the crib, and hauled himself into the grave. Mackenzie flattened herself against the side, Tanner’s body barely missing her.

  “Shit!” Grant exclaimed from above, then he vanished from view.

  “Grant! Help me!” Fear raked her mind. Her heart thundered in her ears. Panic overwhelmed her senses. “Help me, Grant! Get me out!”

  A rapid look at the baby coffin revealed it was nearly submerged under the mud. Tears pricked her eyes, the temptation to rescue it wrestling with her desire to escape. The bottom of the grave was watery mud and already her legs were submerged to midcalf. Beside her, Tanner lay on his side, calmly sinking into the mire, laughing.

  “See, Mac? We’re a family again.” With a feral grin, he grabbed her leg.

  Mackenzie screamed in terror. “Grant!”

  The sludge was sucking her down faster. Joshua’s coffin vanished into the muck, bubbles rising up to the surface. Howling with laughter, Tanner gave into the grave, his lower half vanishing under the brown water.

  “See, Mac? We can still be together!”

  “Grant!” Panicked, Mackenzie raked her fingers along the sides of the grave, trying to find purchase to crawl her way out. “Help me!”

  Above, Grant reappeared. “Mackenzie! Tie this around you!” He tied the end of the sheet to the rail, then heaved the cloth over into the grave. “I’ll pull you up!”

  Mackenzie desperately grabbed the end and wrapped it around her body and under her arms before tying it with shaking hands. It had a big knot part of the way up, and she realized Grant had bound two sheets together. She hoped it would hold. The threat of being sucked into the grave had her in a frantic state. There was no way she could let the dead spot kill her. “Okay, I’m ready!”

  Grant strained to haul her out, but the mud held her captive. Tanner’s slick fingers continued to dig into her skin. His body was buried up to his shoulders, but he was still howling with merriment. It was a sick parody of Tanner’s usually exuberant personality.

  “Let go, Tanner!”

  “Time for us to be a family, Mac!”

  Clutching the makeshift rope tightly, Mackenzie gritted her teeth and with great effort dragged one foot out of the mud. Tanner tried to stop her, but she ruthlessly used his face as a stepping-stone and wrenched her other leg free of the quagmire. Gurgling, Tanner’s head disappeared under the muck, his fingers sliding off her ankle.

  “Now, Grant!”

  Free of the extra weight, Grant was finally able to tug her upward. Tanner’s fingers rose fr
om the water mud and scrabbled at her feet, but Mackenzie kicked them away. His face red from exertion, Grant hoisted her up.

  Daring to look below, Mackenzie saw no sign of Tanner or the baby coffin. Instead she saw the grave was closing in around her.

  “Faster, Grant!” Her fingers clawed at the muddy walls, her feet trying to find purchase. “It’s closing!”

  The muddy liquid was rising quickly, bubbling beneath her feet. Leaning over the crib rail and into the grave, Grant reached for her. The grave closed in around her feet, encasing them in cold, dark earth. Mackenzie propelled herself higher with all her strength and her hand clapped into Grant’s. With a triumphant cry, he tugged her aloft. The mud clung to her legs, but Grant dragged her over the rail and freed her from the trap.

  Together, they tumbled to the floor.

  Wheezing for air, Mackenzie crawled frantically across the room to the doorway. She reached the hall and rolled onto the green shag carpet, trembling violently. Still inside the mock nursery, Grant rose to his feet, grabbed the crib, and toppled it over. The mattress and bedding tumbled out. The area where the crib had stood was solid with no signs of the grave.

  “It’s over.” Breathless, Grant staggered out of the room, stepped over her, then collapsed.

  Mackenzie leaned in far enough to grab the bottom of the door and yank it shut. She grabbed the doorknob and concentrated. A sharp pain shot through her head, but she didn’t care. She heard the audible click of the lock.

  “We screwed up,” Grant said in a breathless voice. “That was the room we couldn’t get into. I never thought that maybe they could get in through it.”

  “It was destroyed. Not part of the house anymore, so it was a doorway, right?” Mackenzie fell over onto her side, her body shuddering. The anxiety attack had vanished in the wake of her terror. Now she felt keenly empty and exhausted.

  Grant nodded, gulping in breaths of air. “Yes. Exactly.” Not looking directly at her, he tugged her bathrobe closed, covering her bare breasts.

  Despite the trauma they had just endured, Mackenzie laughed.