Dead Spots

by Rhiannon Frater

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, not sure if she had actually dozed off.

  “I’m going to introduce Johnny to the joys of modern gaming so he’s ready when we get back to the real world. I’ve got it covered, so you go to sleep.”

  Shoveling a massive spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth, Johnny nodded. “He’s got it covered.”

  “Hey, no talking with food in your mouth,” Mackenzie chided him.

  Johnny rolled his eyes.

  “Seriously, go get some rest.” Lucas gave her arm an encouraging squeeze, then poured more sweet tea into his glass and Johnny’s. “Now where were we, Johnny?”

  “Mario and turtles.”

  “Right! Now, the trick about that game is…”

  Their voices melded into white noise as Mackenzie sleepily dragged herself to her room. She had left the light on next to the bed and the covers turned down. Too tired to even shower, she flopped onto the bed, embraced the thick pillows, and fell asleep.

  Much to her dismay, her dreams were filled with Grant calling her name as she fled with Johnny through crumbling houses, haunted graveyards, and burning buildings. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she thought she had finally freed herself from the nightmares.

  Groggily, she remembered leaving the lamp on, but the room was completely filled with darkness. The bed tilted down beside her and she whimpered, terrified that she was trapped in yet another dream where Grant would once again rape her. Rubbing her face with one hand, she started to roll onto her side desperate to wake up and escape the unfurling nightmare. A heavy weight bore down on her, trapping her against the mattress.

  “Shhh,” a voice whispered.

  Something cold and sharp rested against her throat. The body over her was heavy, but narrow. A bony knee pressed into her chest, pushing the air out of her lungs and making it hard to breathe. Fear bubbled inside of her when she realized she was not dreaming. Someone was in the room holding her at knifepoint, and that person had to have somehow slipped into the dream palace Lucas had created. It was getting harder to breathe and spots began to fill her eyesight. She strained to see who was above her, but there was no light in the room at all.

  “I want to play with you,” the voice whispered. “You ruined my other plaything, so now it’s your turn. Your pretty beacon in the sky led me straight to you. You burn so bright, you know.”

  The Clown was a seer and he’d found her.

  The knife against her throat pressed into her flesh. At first, she didn’t think he had cut her, but then she felt the warmth of her blood trickling over her skin. A second later the piercing agony of the shallow wound sent her reeling. Images of her mother’s worst fears filled her mind and she fought to gain control of her quickly escalating terror.

  Dragging her off the bed, the Clown kept Mackenzie locked against his body with one arm tucked under her breasts while he held the knife under her chin.

  “Don’t try anything, my glowing little bitch. I will slice off your pretty head and gut you before you’re done screaming. Then I’ll go slice up that little runt and your new boy toy.”

  Mackenzie struggled to keep her feet under her to prevent the knife from sliding deeper into her neck. Her fingers gripped the Clown’s wrist, trying in vain to pull it away. He kicked apart the long thick curtains revealing the open window. Displaying how experienced he was in abductions, he easily stepped out of the window first, then dragged her out after him, the knife never wavering from her throat.

  There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to kill her and that he was going to make it as agonizing as possible. She had seen his cold, dead eyes at the amusement park and understood that he was far worse than any wraith. He was a human that chose to be a monster. Unable to draw in a full breath, her lungs begged for air and her head swam.

  Dying now would ruin all their plans and throw her back into the world alone. If she died, where would she return? How would she find Lucas and Johnny? Fighting panic, she tried to concentrate on how she could escape.

  As he carried her away from the house, the Clown’s heavy breathing sent shivers through her. It was obvious he was breathless with exertion and arousal. His disgustingly hard penis kept poking her back. Though fear kept threatening to drown her, the mere thought of being sexually assaulted again ignited a white-hot rage that filled her and burned away all other emotions.

  Finally able to catch her breath, Mackenzie whispered, “Fuck you.”

  The Clown twirled her about and shoved her against a tree trunk. The pale moonlight shimmered on the white satin of his suit. His eyes were orbs of dark mass, empty and without light in his painted white face. Tufts of blue hair sprung up around his narrow face.

  When he spoke, his mouth barely moved, but she could see the redness of his mouth and gums. “I’m going to fuck you in your own blood, my pretty glowing firefly.”

  “You forget,” Mackenzie said, her lips turning up in a cruel smile. “I’m not afraid of clowns.” In her mind she visualized the weapon she needed against the clown, then unleashed it into the nightmare world, ignoring the pain ripping through her skull.

  The zombie grabbed the Clown from behind and wrestled him from Mackenzie. Startled, the Clown flailed, straining to break free of the zombie, waving his knife ineffectually through the empty air. The black-and-white creature flung the Clown to the ground and fell on top of him. Growling, the zombie strangled the serial killer with one hand while its other strained to reach a heavy rock a few feet away. Stabbing at the dead man, the Clown gurgled, struggling to breathe.

  Mackenzie pressed her hand to her throat, the warm, wet blood slipping over her fingers. She stumbled toward the bed-and-breakfast, leaving the Clown to his fate. The thick wet gurgling of the Clown strangling was morbidly reassuring. The zombie growled, and Mackenzie heard the sound of a heavy object impacting against something meaty and soft. She turned, expecting to see the zombie bludgeoning the Clown to death. Instead, Tildy stood over the zombie clutching the makeshift club Mackenzie had made at the amusement park. The zombie raised its hand to ward off the next blow, but Tildy smashed in its head.

  The Clown rolled over onto his hands and knees, retching loudly.

  “Tildy,” Mackenzie breathed.

  “Mackenzie, how are you? Was this yours?” Tildy pointed to the zombie. “So sorry I had to break him, but I can’t have you ruining my fun, can I?”

  “Leave me alone,” Mackenzie said, her tone threatening. She willed a shotgun into being and raised it, aiming it at Tildy’s chest.

  “Oh, my!” Tildy raised her hands to her face, which wore a mocking fearful look. “A big gun!”

  “Stay back!”

  Tildy rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. Really?”

  Tildy looked different from before. Her body was fuller and her feathered hair wasn’t strawlike from malnourishment. Dressed in a white sundress and knee-high white boots, she looked stronger than she had a few days ago.

  “I know how to defend myself now! I won’t let you kill me again!”

  “I don’t have any interest in you anymore. I killed you once. It was fun, but it just doesn’t get me off like killing him does.” With disturbingly swift movements, Tildy hoisted the Clown off the ground, holding him by one hand.

  The Clown kicked and punched her, his face twisted in dread and loathing.

  “Now, killing him is a lot more enjoyable. We’re busy re-creating all my deaths, but now he gets to play the victim, and I get to play the serial killer.” Tildy grinned fiendishly. “We’re up to the death where I get to chainsaw his arms and legs off. It’s going to be really, really fun. I can’t wait to gobble up all that delicious pain and fear. I might even fuck him as he dies. That’s always entertaining, isn’t it, Mr. Clown?”

  The Clown’s strangled screams disturbed Mackenzie, but she didn’t dare look away. She didn’t want to give Tildy any opportunity to attack. Keeping her eyes on the wraith, she slid through the open window. “Go away, Tildy. Play your sic
k games far away from here.”

  Tildy just smirked.

  Mackenzie placed her hand on the window, ready to shut it, when Tildy said, “Grant’s coming, you know. He couldn’t find you until this little seer led us to you.”

  Fear twisted in Mackenzie’s gut, but she refused to look away from the female wraith.

  “Grant misses you. He said you were so delicious. So full of pain, despair, loneliness, and fear. Every little sip he took from you was ambrosia, he said. And when he asked you to let him in, you just spread your skinny white thighs for him and let his big ol’ cock in without any resistance so he could mark you.” Tildy smirked. “You’re such a whore. Are you fucking the tattoo guy yet?”

  Mackenzie slammed the window shut and jerked the curtains closed. She knew she wasn’t alone in the room when the lamp turned on and the darkness vanished.

  Outside, the Clown screamed in pain.

  “Mac,” Lucas said in a gentle tone. “Mac, are you okay? I heard noises and saw you come in the window.”

  Facing him, she nodded.

  “Oh, God! Your throat!” Lucas formed a towel in his hand and rushed to her side. Pressing it against her wound, he guided her to the sofa tucked against the wall.

  Unshed tears stung her eyes, but Mackenzie didn’t want to let them fall. Tildy’s words had wounded her more than the knife wound.

  “It hurts,” she whispered. Everything in the world hurt so much.

  “You can heal yourself. Just concentrate.”

  Lucas attempted to staunch the bleeding. Again she was tempted to push him away. His touch made her skin crawl, but she forcibly reminded herself that he was not Grant or the Clown.

  “Mac, you’re bleeding really badly. He didn’t hit your arteries, but you can bleed out. If you die, I don’t know how long it will take us to find you. You’ll be alone out there. Please, concentrate on healing yourself. I can’t do it for you. It’s your body, your will.” Lucas pressed his lips to her temple and she felt his tears on her skin.

  Nodding, she closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure what to do at first, but then the image of her sliced throat filled her mind’s eye, and she imagined the wound being erased by the giant pink eraser she used in grade school. Gradually, the pain eased until it was gone.

  Lucas sighed with relief. Tossing the bloodied towel away, he drew her into his arms. Again, she almost resisted, but she forced herself to relax against his chest. Lucas had never shown any inclination to hurt her and the tenderness in his eyes spoke volumes. He truly cared for her.

  “We’ve come this far. We can’t lose each other, Mac.…”

  “But we might. Tomorrow things will be much worse.”

  “We’re going to fight back, Mac. We’re going to make it to the doorway and get out of here. No one else is going to hurt you and Johnny.”

  Grant, Tildy, the Clown, and all the terrible creatures she had witnessed flashed through her weary and frightened mind. How could they fight against so much evil? “Grant’s coming.”

  “And we’re leaving.”

  “I won’t let him touch me again,” Mackenzie vowed. “I won’t let anything hurt you or Johnny. I’ll fight anything that tries to stop us.” Fear dissipated into resolve. She hadn’t been able to save Joshua, but she had the power and the ability to save herself and her companions.

  “And we’ll fight for you, too.”

  “If we escape—”

  “When we escape.”

  “When we escape, what happens then?” The thought of losing Johnny and Lucas pierced her with unexpected sorrow. Would they all just go their separate ways? What about Johnny?

  “I’ll get ahold of my brother. He’ll come get us. It’ll be hell explaining all of this to him, but he’s a good guy. He’ll help us even if he thinks we’re batshit crazy. We’ll head back to Austin. You can call your mom from there.” Lucas’s fingers gently combed through her hair, the motion unexpectedly relaxing. “If you want … you know … to come with me.”

  Mackenzie raised her head to look at Lucas. Hope and fear intermingled in his gaze. “I can’t go to the ranch after what I saw.”

  A relieved smile flitted across his lips. “Cool.”

  “And Johnny? His family may be long gone. How do we even start to help him?”

  Shrugging, Lucas rested his hand on her cheek, his thumb rubbing it lightly. “Well, we’ll keep him away from Child Protective Services. We’ll handle it on our own. We may have to get a little shady to keep him with us, but there is no way in hell that little guy is going anywhere close to a foster home. I’ll move to Mexico to avoid CPS if I have to.”

  For some weird reason, that made Mackenzie giggle.

  “What?”

  “You sound like a dad.”

  Lucas considered her comment, then chuckled. “Yeah, well, God brought him into my life for a reason. I’m not going to let Johnny down.”

  “Has it only been three days since I found him in the graveyard?” Mackenzie’s mind reeled at the thought. She had spent two days with Grant and the last few with Johnny and Lucas. Five days in total since she stepped into the café. Yet it seemed like so much longer. It was now unimaginable that she could live her life without the presence of the precious little boy and tattooed man.

  “It feels longer, huh? It makes me wonder how time really works here.” Lucas shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

  “I want to remain a part of Johnny’s life,” Mackenzie said firmly.

  “Of course you will be! He loves you!”

  Tears in her eyes, Mackenzie said, “I love him, too. He’s not a replacement for Joshua, you know. He’s just a piece of my heart now.”

  “Just like you’re a piece of his. Mac, don’t you see how much we both care about you? I wouldn’t be too happy if you went off to Kerrville. I’d miss you.”

  Clutching his T-shirt, Mackenzie let out a sob that had been building in her throat. “Lucas, I’m taking my stand. I want to build a new life with both of you in it. I don’t know exactly what that entails, but I do. I’ll get a bookkeeper job and an apartment—”

  “No lists, Mac,” Lucas whispered, his voice weighted with emotion. “Just flow with it. We’ll figure it out.”

  “You saw the lists?”

  “Yeah. I saw the journal briefly.”

  “It was my ladder out of the pit of depression. It was the only way to keep moving forward, to keep living.”

  “And now?”

  Reflecting on the last few days, Mackenzie acknowledged that she’d lost all of the support systems that had kept her functioning: her journal, her online support group, her Xanax, and even Joshua’s blanket. “I have myself.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Lucas gave her a drowsy look of pride. The exhaustion from their trip was clearly affecting him.

  Daring to press her palm to his scruffy jaw, she gazed steadily into his eyes. “I’d miss you, too.”

  Gathering her into his arms, Lucas held her close, his cheek pressed against hers. “We’ll go with the flow, Mac, right?”

  Already her heart had opened so wide to let Johnny in and Lucas stood on the threshold. Could she let him in, too? She suspected the answer was yes. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Lucas planted a long, firm kiss on her cheek. It was the sweetest of promises. Drawing away, he leaned his head on the back of the sofa. “Mind if I crash here?”

  “Not at all.” Closing her eyes, she lay against his chest, releasing her fear, her pain, and her sorrow until nothing was left but a peaceful emptiness.

  At some point, they both dozed off. Mackenzie woke when Johnny crawled next to her, dragging Joshua’s blanket and the larger one she’d made him. Curling against her side, he closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep. Mackenzie draped her arm over him, sighing contentedly. Stroking his hair, Mackenzie kissed his brow. Love filled her heart for the little guy, and she accepted the guilt that came with it. Joshua would always be in her heart, but it was time to let others in.

&nb
sp; The steady rising and falling of Lucas’s chest as he slept slowly lulled Mackenzie back to sleep.

  There were no more nightmares.

  CHAPTER 31

  The Mustang rumbled at the top of the mountain, the engine ticking. In the driver’s seat, Lucas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Beside him in the passenger seat, Mackenzie swung her purse over her head and mentally prepared herself. Between them, Johnny leaned forward from the backseat, his big dark eyes wide with awe.

  “Wow,” Johnny said at last.

  In the valley below, the town of Trosclair, Texas, was spread out in all its rustic, charming beauty just beyond a bridge that spanned a rapidly rushing river. Oaks and cedar trees bordered the road, their branches swaying violently. The hills were steep with patches of their face stripped bare by rock slides exposing the chalky-colored stone beneath. Though these elements appeared normal and almost idyllic, they were overlaid with a nightmarish layer of sheer chaos.

  Above the valley a massive wall of thick, dark churning clouds filled the sky, blotting out the sun and plunging the town into a perpetual dusk. Great swarms of red-eyed birds swirled beneath the greenish gray storm. Enormous creatures made of darkness and nightmares perched on the buildings of the town. Fires raged, the earth shook, and lightning filled the sky with flashes of light while thunder rolled endlessly.

  “Wow,” Johnny said again.

  “We can come back in two weeks.” Lucas glanced at Mackenzie. “Or maybe try another way out.”

  Shaking her head, Mackenzie said, “We know there’s a tour in an hour. We need to get to the theater. If we chicken out, we’ll talk ourselves out of trying now that we’ve seen it.”

  With a solemn nod, Lucas agreed. “Okay, so…”

  Johnny patted his shoulder. “It’s okay to be afraid.”

  Lucas laughed, the sound slightly bitter. “I think this is the first time I’ve been afraid—truly afraid—since I arrived in this world.”

  “It’s a good time to be afraid,” Mackenzie said, with a slight laugh. It sounded slightly hysterical.