Dead Spots

by Rhiannon Frater

  “That’s the thing about this world,” Ted said gravely. “You have to be strong, or it eats you alive.”

  “Hell, it will eat you alive even if you are strong,” Jared pointed out. “You’re one of the toughest people I know and it’s done plenty to you.”

  Ted slumped into a chair. “A tender heart can get you killed.”

  The words struck a nerve. Mackenzie tilted her head to watch Grant at the kitchen counter. He was screwing the lids back on the jars and a large pile of sandwiches sat on a plate next to him. She saw the tightening of his shoulders and his spine straightening. While the other men ate, Grant stored away the food items, then set the plate of sandwiches on the table, leaving servings aside for Brian and Dawn.

  “I have no regrets helping Mackenzie,” Grant said at last, his eyes meeting hers in a steady gaze. “Or taking you in tonight.”

  “For which we are very grateful,” Jared said around a mouthful of food.

  Ted sighed. “It’s difficult to do the Christian thing in here.”

  “This is hell after all.” Jared cast a defiant look in Ted’s direction.

  Ted appeared vexed by the comment. “You know I don’t believe that.”

  “Just because you were a deacon in your church doesn’t mean you have an automatic ticket to heaven, my brother.” Jared smirked, obviously needling Ted.

  “Ah, shut up.”

  Mackenzie liked the camaraderie between the two men. They were obviously good friends, but their presence in the kitchen while the other three remained elsewhere in the house showed a clear schism in the group.

  Brian appeared with his hair wet, wrapped in one of the big robes from the linen closet in the bathroom. His clothes were tucked under one arm. “Mind if I do laundry?”

  “I think all of us should do that,” Ted answered. “Toss it in the washer and once the last of us is done in the shower, we’ll run it.”

  “Okay.” Brian did as he was told before claiming two of the plates and the glasses of milk. Balancing the load on his arms, he carefully plodded through the hallway to the living room.

  “Are you going to split up?” Grant asked, cutting through the silence that lingered after Brian departed.

  Ted rotated his empty plate in a slow circle with his fingertips while Jared ate another sandwich. After a few seconds of Ted remaining silent, Jared answered with the nod of his head.

  “But you haven’t told the others?” Mackenzie could see the guilt in their faces.

  “I don’t want to lose my soul in here,” Ted said finally. “The longer we stay with Grace, the more likely that’s going to happen. I don’t want to be a wraith.”

  “When will you do it?” Mackenzie set her partially eaten sandwich on the plate, the desire to eat leaving her. She could understand both sides of the argument and sympathized with each.

  Ted and Jared glanced at each other, then Jared said, “We planned to leave today, but things went really wrong.”

  “So probably tomorrow.” Ted took the dirty plates to the sink, obviously uncomfortable with the confession.

  “When will you tell them?” There was an odd sound in Grant’s voice that Mackenzie could not decipher.

  “Tomorrow morning.” Jared snagged more sandwiches. “This isn’t easy, you know.”

  “I wish they would see it and come with us.” The agony of the decision the two friends had come to was written all over Ted’s face.

  “And leave Grace behind?” Mackenzie cast a worried look at the hallway, afraid the others would overhear.

  “She’s a liability in this world,” Jared said simply. “I wish we could just find a nice dream castle for her to live her life in, but she’d ruin it.”

  “You keep mentioning dream castles and safe havens. Tildy mentioned a dream palace. What are they?” Mackenzie pushed her plate away, half her sandwich uneaten.

  Without a word, Grant slid the plate right back to her. Frowning at him, she gave in, picking up the sandwich and nibbling on the corner.

  “It’s a dead spot that someone has taken control of completely,” Jared said around a mouthful of a new sandwich. “And not just restoring it to how it looked in the other world. We’re talking a complete alteration to fit the shaper’s will.”

  Ted returned to the table and reclaimed his chair. “We did see one that looked like a big pink castle. Massive and extremely detailed. It belonged to a young teenage girl out near the Houston area.”

  “It even had unicorns.” Jared smirked.

  “I thought you said I couldn’t do that.” Mackenzie twisted about on her chair to stare at Grant. “You said I can only restore dead spots to what they once were.”

  “Right now that is all you can do. I didn’t want to add pressure. Dream constructs are not easy to create or maintain at first. The longer the shaper believes in it, the stronger it becomes.” Grant’s blue eyes implored her to understand. “I have been trying to gently guide you in this world. I’m trying not to overwhelm you.”

  Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “There are dream palaces and nightmare palaces. The person who takes control decides which it will be.” Jared nodded to Ted. “Remember that Star Wars one?”

  “That one was weird.” Ted grimaced. “All the women were Leia in a slave outfit and the shaper had them on leashes.”

  “So why haven’t you made one?” Mackenzie asked the men at the table.

  “Not strong enough, sorry to say,” Ted replied. “Once you die in this world, you’re tainted. It gets harder to be a shaper after each death.”

  “We’ve lost too much of our life spark.” Jared’s smile completely vanished and he studiously wiped off his plate with the crust of his bread, mopping up the last of the drops of jelly. “We’ve maintained safe havens for certain lengths of time, but to establish a permanent dream palace is something we haven’t been able to do. Even with all of us trying.”

  “Though you may be able to do it,” Ted pointed out. “You haven’t died yet. You’re strong enough to fix this house, so you might be able to create a safe place for yourself and Grant. But, you won’t be able to take in people like us. Outsiders can compromise dream palaces. Though we’re very grateful you took us in tonight, the reality is that if you ever build a dream palace, you can’t let us in.”

  It all made sense in a horrible way. It even explained Grant’s paranoia about Tildy. He had recognized how close she was to her final death and transformation into a wraith. She had to wonder why Grant had allowed the others into the farmhouse though. It seemed out of character somehow, but she would have to wait to ask him until they had a moment alone.

  Footsteps in the hallway alerted the group in the kitchen to the approach of the others. Dawn and Grace entered with their empty plates and glasses. Dawn gave them all a speculative look, but Grace promptly walked over to the kitchen windows, peeled back the curtains, and peered out. The dishes clinked together when Dawn set them inside the sink and turned on the faucet. It was a strangely comforting sound. Mackenzie scooted her chair away from the table, shielded the remains of her sandwich from Grant’s watchful gaze, and joined Dawn. The young woman scrubbed away at the dishes, the foaming, hot water billowing up around her wrists.

  “I can get that for you,” Dawn offered, extending a hand covered in soapy suds.

  “Thanks.” Mackenzie handed her the plate, then awkwardly watched the younger woman, trying to think of a way to start a conversation. The kitchen was horribly quiet now that Grace had joined them. She was giggling at the window, obviously amused by something outside.

  “Dawn, do you want to take your shower next?” Ted asked.

  “Sure. I’ll take Grace with me and get her cleaned up, too.”

  “I don’t want to go in the water!” Grace whipped about, her face darkening. “That nasty shark will get me!”

  “I already told you that sharks are in the ocean, not in bathtubs,” Dawn answered calmly and with great patience.r />
  “What got her stirred up?” Jared asked wearily.

  “Brian is watching Jaws.” Dawn’s brow furrowed. “He’s being a dipshit because I was paying more attention to her.”

  “He knows better!” Ted shot to his feet and scooted around the table.

  Mackenzie shivered. The mere thought of sharks was enough to make her flinch. Jaws had traumatized her as a kid. She’d just been getting over her fear of sharks when she had visited her cousins in Galveston. They had spent an awesome day swimming and having fun in the high waves and bright sunlight. A day later her uncle had shown the kids an aerial photograph that had been taken while they had been at the beach. The sleek, frightening forms of sharks had been terrifyingly close to them, though no one had ever seen the predators. That was the last time Mackenzie ventured into the ocean.

  “I told him to turn it off, but he says it’s his favorite movie,” Dawn grumbled. “It got Grace all riled up.”

  Jared followed Ted out of the room while Grant sat in silence eating his sandwich.

  “The big fish was eating people,” Grace whispered to Mackenzie. “I don’t like it. It’s not nice like my goldfish at home.”

  “It’s just a movie. The shark was fake.” It was exactly what her mother had told Mackenzie every time she tried to cajole Mackenzie into the water on their vacations.

  Grace regarded her with skepticism.

  “You can take a shower instead of a bath.” Dawn finished washing the dishes and setting them in the drainer. “Is that fine?”

  Scrunching up her face, Grace pondered the question before giving a short nod.

  Smiling with relief, Dawn wiped her hands on a towel and extended her hand toward Grace. “Good. Now let’s go get cleaned up so we can go to sleep in a nice comfy bed.”

  Raised voices in the living room made Dawn pause. Mackenzie could see the indecision in her expression. Should she hurry Grace past the quarreling men, or wait it out and risk Grace rebelling?

  “C’mon. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

  “I don’t want to see the shark!”

  “If the TV is on, just close your eyes and I’ll guide you, okay?”

  Mackenzie was touched by Dawn’s sweetness, but it also made her a little anxious. Mackenzie could see her own need to help others reflected in Dawn. She wondered if Dawn would end up witnessing Grace’s death just as Mackenzie had watched Tildy die.

  Worry wrinkled Grace’s forehead and she chewed on her bottom lip, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  Dawn planted a cheery, but not very convincing smile on her face. “A nice shower will make you feel better. I promise. Grant, the bathroom is at the top of the stairs, right?”

  “Yes, it is. Let me show you where it is.” Grant joined them near the hallway entrance. Grace reached out and grabbed his hand, smiling up at him rapturously. Mackenzie felt a small spark of jealousy, but mostly was amused by Grace’s blatant, but childish flirtatious smile.

  “I’ll be just a moment,” Grant said to Mackenzie before leading the two women out of the kitchen.

  Leaning back against the counter, Mackenzie rubbed her throbbing temple. Exhaustion and pain were keeping her anxiety in check, but she could feel it pooling in the depths of her mind. The arguing voices were getting louder and it wasn’t helping her headache at all. She considered walking into the living room to turn off the television and tell them all to shut up, but she didn’t really want to see any piece of the famous shark movie. She scurried up the hall to the base of the stairs, averting her eyes from the television as she grabbed the newel post, swung about, and hurried up the steps. The haunting, terrifying music from John Williams’s score followed in her wake.

  “I like this movie! I can’t just ignore what I like because this fucking place might do something twisted with it!” Brian’s voice sounded from below.

  “We can’t take risks, Brian! Especially with Grace around!” Ted sounded desperate and afraid.

  “Grace isn’t doing it!”

  “Turn the damn TV off!” Jared shouted. “Give me the remote!”

  Mackenzie reached the second floor and scooted past Dawn and Grace, who were watching Grant explain where everything was located for their showers. She glanced into the bathroom long enough to see Grant gazing after her worriedly.

  “Are you sure sharks can’t get through the pipes?” Grace asked doubtfully.

  Mackenzie just wanted to lie down and sort out her thoughts. The dream had shaken her and the new arrivals had brought a fresh set of problems. Retiring to the bedroom, Mackenzie sprawled across the bed. She could still hear the men downstairs arguing and Grace plying Grant with questions. Laying her hand over her eyes, she tried to block out the voices. She needed to think and the noise was distracting her.

  Then she heard something that made her heart stutter and her body tense.

  “Do you think the Clown will come in and do tricks for us tonight?” Grace’s voice asked loudly from the hallway. “I really like his blue hair.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The Clown stood silent and still in the open field, a cloud of balloons hovering, stationary, around him. The flowing iridescent ribbons dangling from the balloons danced in the breeze, the only movement other than the swaying grass. It was difficult to catch her breath. Her chest felt like it was being gradually squeezed by a vice. The sensation dramatically increased when Tildy strode around the corner of the house and tilted her head to gaze up at the window. The emaciated woman’s cold, dead eyes glinted and her lips spread into a feral smile. As she lifted one hand, her long, clawlike fingers waved.

  Gasping, Mackenzie swiveled away from the window, crashing into Grant. She hadn’t heard him enter the room and when his hands closed around her upper arms, she attempted to shove him away. “Don’t touch me!”

  “It’s me, Mackenzie,” Grant said, managing to hold on to her despite her attempts to wrench free.

  “The Clown! Tildy!” Mackenzie pointed toward the window. “They’re out there!”

  “Mackenzie, they can’t get in,” Grant said in a fierce voice, slightly shaking her. “You have control!”

  “What if she lets them in? What if Ted and Jared are right? What if Grace lets them in and they—” The edges of her vision were blurring. Breathless, she sagged against Grant.

  “Mackenzie, you need to stop being hysterical,” he whispered in her ear. “Calm down.”

  “You don’t understand … I’m not sure I’m strong enough to keep them out,” Mackenzie whispered in a raspy voice. If she couldn’t even protect the child that had been growing inside of her, how could she keep out the monsters and protect the people taking refuge in the house? “Grant, I don’t want to be the reason other people die. I already lost Tildy today.” Finding it difficult to stand, she took a step toward the bed, but her knees buckled. Grant caught her, lifted her up into his arms, and carried her to the bed.

  Tucking a pillow under her head, Grant leaned over her. His voice was firm, but calming. “You’re in control. They can’t get in unless you let them in.”

  His face shrouded in shadows, Grant pressed his lips to her forehead. The intimacy of the gesture sent shivers through her body, and she closed her eyes. The gentle touch of his fingers stroking her hair gradually diminished the chaos in her mind. Tanner had often comforted her in the exact same way in the past. He’d always known how to calm her and make her feel protected from the troubles of the world. It was too easy to imagine he was here with her, holding her, keeping her safe.

  Like her earlier dream, Tanner’s ghostly presence dissolved into Grant. His body was sturdier, heavier, and more muscular than Tanner’s. His fingers were soft, not roughened by hard labor. He smelled like lavender and soap, not the open air and fresh earth. It felt terribly wrong to feel another man touching her, comforting her, and arousing her.

  Opening her eyes, she saw desire in Grant’s gaze. His fingertips glided over the edge of her chin and his lips hovered close to hers. Though her rational mind screa
med for her not to give in to her body’s growing arousal and her need to be comforted, she didn’t move to resist him. In fact, it was as if she couldn’t muster the energy to refuse him.

  An eerie stillness filled her as he caressed her face and laid gentle kisses on her lips. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t deny his touch. The seductive languor of the earlier dream ate at her defenses. Was it so terrible to give in? To crave a moment of comfort? Grant’s hand on her hip sent tremors of desire mixed with anxiety through her. Could she let someone touch her like Tanner had? Could she let Grant in to her body and possibly her heart? She felt split in half. One piece was dying to surrender to the man that found her desirable, while another part of her mind remained unmoved and separate from the growing passion between them, rummaging worriedly through all that had transpired in the last day. It was difficult to let go of her fears.

  “What about the Clown? Grace liked the Clown,” Mackenzie whispered against Grant’s kiss.

  “Mackenzie, if the monsters enter it’s because you let them in.” Covering her mouth with his as if to silence her, he deepened the kiss as his tongue seductively flicked hers.

  A comment one of the newcomers had said swirled up from the dying embers of the raging fire of anxiety that was slowly being replaced by the cool, calming waves of Grant’s touch. Struggling to grasp it, she turned her face away from Grant, and his lips slid downward to nip the curve of her throat. A surge of panic ripped through her the second her mind ascertained what was bothering her.

  “She never dies!” Pushing him off, she stared at Grant in horror. “Grace never dies because she’s not one of us!”

  “Mackenzie, you’re panicking. Just relax.”